


Addicted To A Losing Game

by heyitsmemi



Category: Persona 5
Genre: A lot of questions and general uncertainty, Angst, Disaster boys are Not Okay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Humor, Just... all the tropes let's be honest, M/M, Mystery, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Burn, Star-crossed, Unresolved Tension, a lot of confusion, and also, but easing it up with, in every sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-07-19 07:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsmemi/pseuds/heyitsmemi
Summary: "What do you say to the person who tried to betray and kill you, but in the end died saving you? To the person who was your rival, but only because it was planned to be that way by some greater power, although deep down you couldn’t bring yourself to hate? To someone who was no longer around to ask why?"In which Akira is moving back to Tokyo to finish his senior year at Shujin, but mysterious dreams start following him, where he ends up at a once familiar place, to meet a once familiar face. In the midst of confusion, a shocking encounter prompts him to decide his fate for himself, and maybe - just maybe - rig the true outcome of an already rigged game.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first take on a fic in the p5 fandom in general, but I couldn't help myself. These two are just my guilty pleasure (for which I feel zero actual guilt tbh) and figured I might aswell try my luck and put it out there.  
> It is rated M for later chapters, but there will be a warning every time it applies - although I will never go too explicit.
> 
> The title comes from the song 'Arcade' by Duncan Laurence, which I heavily suggest for people who want to cry about Shuake to look up because if it doesn't describe them perfectly in every line then I don't know what does- alright.
> 
> Either way, thank you so much for giving this a go ♡

He walked ahead naturally, but not without at least a glimpse of uncertainty. He knew instantly where he was, of course; the place that was once the Velvet Room was now darker and emptier than ever during his ‘rehabilitation’ – no sign of Igor or Lavenza, no bars on the cell he once occupied, and Akira merely wondered why.

Why was he back there?

It’s been 8 months since he defeated Yaldabaoth with his friends, ultimately saved the world, and erased the metaverse once and for all. 4 months since he came back to his hometown – although not entirely by choice -, and away from them all. He hadn’t stepped a foot in this place since he acquired his last card, and as far as he was concerned, it shouldn’t have been possible. He saw this room turning into nothing. So why…?

He thought about the arcana… The world; implying he found his place in it, was no longer alone, and did everything the way it was supposed to be done.

But did he really? The room once stopped being a prison, of being anything, but if he truly did free his heart, then why was it back in that state again? That state, except...

He looked around, squinting and trying to see further than the darkness, _too much_ darkness, but his eyes couldn’t quite pierce through it. He was not supposed to be back here, was he…? The lack of the original residents of this room told him that much. He was wearing no phantom suit either, nor the unmistakable attire of an inmate – it was just his sleep wear.

Before Akira had the chance to consider the possibility that perhaps he died in his sleep in some mysterious way and that’s how he ended up back here, something caught his attention.

_Clink._

His head snapped in the direction of the noise, carefully navigating through the blackness, one step at a time.

_Clink clink._

Based solely on his memories, the noise was leading him towards the outer parts of the room, where the corridors branched out and spiraled into several smaller ones. He tried to feel the ground with his bare feet as he inched forward, his eyes not accustoming to the dark one bit. This wasn’t just simple darkness either, he could feel it. It existed within this room, in all its abandonment. Forgotten, left behind… hidden.

And perhaps he should’ve thought rationally and not walk right into whatever it embraced and loomed around, but when did he ever turn his back on anything? Something was leading him there, and he had to know the reason behind it.

He stopped in his tracks when he heard something akin to a sigh, just a long ‘hhh’ – sounding absolutely miserable and hopeless. He frowned. To what, he wasn’t sure, but he was close.

Akira tapped his foot along the floor until he reached a barrier he couldn’t see, and felt around with his hands until he found himself in another hallway, with a single light source. Recognition hit him on the head like a ton of bricks.

It was the same. The same blue light he saw before, 8 months ago, when he collected his friends from this exact place, somehow managing to give them a pep talk convincing enough to break free and join him in defeating a self-acclaimed god. It was another cell, just like those ones, illuminated by a single blue light, waiting… unopened.

Abandoned.

Akira swallowed hard, now seeing just enough to make his way towards the single cell in the long hallway.

His eyes widened and his breath became shallower as he stopped in front of it, looking down at the figure sitting inside it; back against the wall, head buried in his arms which were resting over his pulled up knees, and all that was truly visible of him was the light brown hair, with a blue hue playing over it, falling miserably over his face and arms, hiding his features. Features Akira knew all too well.

Something inside him physically ached, and he could feel his heart beginning to race helplessly in his chest, because _what was happening_? The figure didn’t seem to hear someone approach him, but when he suddenly stilled, Akira’s breath got caught in his throat.

For a second he considered that maybe somehow he could hear Akira’s pulse going absolutely fucking haywire in the midst of the eternal silence in this place, or perhaps he just sensed someone’s presence in general?

“… Joker?” The figure called without looking up, akin to a person quite literally left in the dark, asking for confirmation. His voice was rough, but not in any way aggressive. If anything, it sounded hopeful.

And Akira felt like he was struck by one of Ryuji's lightning attacks, frozen in place by Yusuke's, and unable to move overall. Except somehow even worse.

To hear that voice again, and so damn clearly, after all those months… his head was spinning.

In the next moment, when he couldn’t manage to say a damn thing in response, the figure’s head popped up almost too fast to comprehend, and all Akira could see before reality aggressively ripped him away was eyes.

Maroon eyes.

He jolted awake forcefully, sitting up fast enough to give himself whiplash, barely registering Morgana’s yelp as he nearly kicked him across the room.

He was breathing rapidly, like he just ran a marathon, which was also different from any other time he had visited the Velvet Room.

“Man… that was too close,” Morgana complained as he shook himself and inched closer to him. “Bad dream, Akira?”

He took a second to take in his surroundings. He was in his bed, in his room, the streetlights just minimally illuminating his room through the opened window and casting various shadows, the warm summer night air caressing his skin, which felt especially nice where the back of his neck felt damp from perspiration. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of his room as they normally should, which meant he was really at home. Then his glance fell to Morgana’s big blue eyes staring right into his soul.

“Some… something like that,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “I dreamed… I was back in the Velvet Room,” it sounded more like a question than a statement, though, because he wasn’t entirely sure if he just dreamed he was there, or if he _actually_ was. It was difficult to tell, with that place.

“Oh?” Morgana hummed, licking the back of his paw before brushing it over his face. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. You’re going back next week, I’m sure everything associated with it, including the metaverse is currently on your mind.”

Akira couldn’t do much else, but nod again. Technically, that made perfect sense. He didn’t know if he wanted to elaborate about who he saw in there, though. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

It certainly wasn’t the first time he dreamed about those specific maroon eyes. Akira saw him in his dreams fairly often, haunting him like an unfinished business – which he ultimately was. But never like this. This felt different; more real, alarming, like he was supposed to get up and do something about it right this instant, and it left his mind in a confused spiral.

“Are you alright?” Morgana asked, somewhat concerned this time, clearly because Akira was just staring into space as his breathing evened out. He loved this cat, and frankly trusted him with his whole life – not to mention he was the only member of his group that could actually come along and stay with him while he was away from the others these past months. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it.

“’m okay,” he reassured him as confidently as he could, laying back down onto his back, but it must have been convincing enough because the ball of blackness moved and got comfortable – although not quite on top of his legs this time, but next to them. He raised a brow at him.

“Just as a precaution,” the cat informed before he yawned and closed his eyes.

Akira smiled briefly, then stared up at the ceiling. He still felt rather unsettled, but he considered Morgana’s words. Maybe it really was nothing more than a dream that crawled out from his subconscious mind now that he was moving back to the city. And for who he saw… perhaps that also had something to do with that. After all, Akechi was also a part of the memories associated with his year spent in Tokyo.

Akechi.

He bit his tongue and forced his eyes shut. There was no use to dwell over any of that. He couldn’t change the past, no matter what his dreams or thoughts tried to throw at him.

He didn’t dream about the Velvet Room again that night.

*

“Are you sure that’s everything you want to take?” Morgana asked, approximately for the fifth time, emerging his head out of the bag on his shoulder – to which he replied with promptly shoving his head back in. He honestly didn’t understand the problem with a single suitcase. Most of the things he needed were where he was headed.

“It’s more than enough. Stay in my bag,” Akira ordered, navigating through the train station. He gave the bag an extra oomf by yanking it with a little too much power, just so his point was definitely getting across.

“Hey, this is animal abuse!”

He smirked to himself. “Hardly.”

Akira had some money to spare, but he was not about to pay the pet fare, especially considering the fact that Morgana wasn’t exactly your average cat. Still, ‘the embodiment of the hope of humanity’ was not something one can bring up in a conversation to any normal human being ever. In the very least, the conductor would give him a weird look. Then have him pay extra. No thank you.

The train ride was surprisingly quiet, with Morgana sleeping in his bag next to him – neither of them could really sleep well the previous night, both too excited to see everyone again. Although Morgana would probably argue and say he was only passed out because Akira gave him a concussion earlier, which he totally didn’t.

Akira gazed out the window and watched the scenery fly by in silence, buried deep in his thoughts. It was late August, and he headed back to Tokyo to finish his senior year at Shujin Academy. To him, it made perfect sense; he’d move out there for university anyway, and that was where all his true friends were. Sojiro’s café felt more like home than his actual hometown, and he was beyond homesick. To his parents, it was unnecessary, but neither of them really opposed it. In fact, if Akira had to guess, they were relieved. Nobody really knew what to do with the family whose son was in juvenile hall two times within a year. The reality of it all didn’t seem to matter, so he didn’t bother to try and stay. He didn’t belong there… he never did.

It was perhaps that lack of sleep that eventually made him slip into exactly that. He didn’t revisit the Velvet Room since that time last week, and he almost started to feel relieved, feeling like it was truly just a onetime thing, a fleeting dream because he was coming back, and there was a lot on his mind. He wasn’t so sure now.

He looked around, only hesitating for a moment before taking a step and going the exact direction he did before he found Akechi locked up in a cell. The room and hallways seemed a little less dark now, easier to navigate, and his legs carried him seemingly on their own. It still didn’t make any sense, and he needed answers. As he got to the cell in question, his steps came to a halt and he frowned, confused.

It was empty. No bars, no blue light, and no inmate. Nothing.

For a moment he considered he maybe went the wrong way, but he knew he didn’t. This one had to be it, he could _feel_ it. Akira tried to make sense of any part of this situation – whatever it was – but he couldn’t come up with anything.

“What…,” he whispered to no one, to himself, to the empty walls. But of course, this was how it was supposed to be, right? Akechi was dead. He couldn’t have been here, not really. He ignored the surge of disappointment slowly spreading through him.

He sighed, then stopped breathing altogether when he felt an entirely different sensation creeping up his spine; the instinct of being watched, observed. It immediately made him feel alert. He sensed movement from the corner of his eyes, but as soon as he turned towards the motion, it was gone. Akira ran towards it without thinking, chasing it, without knowing what he was truly running after – all he knew was that he _had_ to keep going, because if his speculation _was_ in fact correct, then he couldn’t stop.

He couldn’t, because he was chasing an answer, a memory, a closure, anything that’d ease the peace of his mind.

He found himself back in the heart of the Velvet Room soon enough, frantically scanning each and every inch of the room around him. It felt too ironic, too real. Like always, he could just never reach him. “… Akechi?” He called, voice surprisingly calm for how helpless and confused he felt, especially given how long it was since that name rolled off his tongue.

He only stood there for a few seconds before - just a little to his left -, a figure emerged from the dark just enough to make it out who it was; and to confirm it to Akira. He squinted in his direction, not quite seeing his face.

“I need to talk to you,” Akechi’s voice was quiet, almost cautious. And that was all he heard before Akira felt himself ripped away again, jolting awake in his seat as he was awakened by the train’s horn. They were nearing Tokyo.

*

“Hey! My turn now!” Ryuji’s voice blared through the crowd around them, though Akira could pay barely any mind as he was currently being crushed by an over-enthusiastic hug from Futaba; it was almost terrifying how much force could be produced by this tiny girl, not that he really minded. He missed her, too.

“Wait for your turn, Ryuji!” Her grip lessened just slightly as she pulled back enough to lock eyes with Akira, expression implying nothing but outmost seriousness. “How was it being there? Did you miss the city life? Did you miss us? On a scale from zero to one hundred, how much?”

“You weren’t even supposed to be here! I was supposed to pick him up and meet you all at Leblanc!” Ryuji interjected, putting a stop to Futaba’s flood of questions.

She turned to him with a huff, pointing her finger at him like he just committed a horrendous crime. “As if you aren’t happy Sojiro drove us here so you won’t have to take the subway!”

Akira stared at them bickering for a moment with what he imagined to be a rather fond smile.

“Sheesh,” Morgana sighed, emerging from his bag and resting his paws on his shoulder. “You guys never change. What about me?”

“Mona!” Futaba shrieked, forgetting all about Ryuji – or Akira, for that matter – as she snatched Morgana from his bag and gave him a taste of what Akira just went through, aswell.

“Finally,” Ryuji grinned, no doubt grateful for the distraction called Morgana as he threw an arm around Akira’s shoulder and gently punched his side with the other. “It’s been too long, man! I know you even decided to come back earlier, but honestly, I was barely holding on.”

Akira just gave him one of those _‘oh, come on’_ looks in response, but Ryuji insisted. “Nah, seriously. It’s just not the same with Yusuke as another guy being around.”

He laughed a little, shaking his head. “So essentially you missed your best friend, is what you’re saying?”

Ryuji ducked his head, staring at somewhere else in the distance. “Dude… I mean, yeah that‘s what I’m sayin’!”

“Sojiro is waiting for us outside, come on!” Futaba interrupted, hopping next to them with Morgana in her arms. “By the way, not to brag about my amazing progress, but how about me willingly coming to a packed strain station? Are you impressed or impressed?”

“I’m very impressed,” Akira affirmed with a nod. “And guys… I missed you one hundred,” he added, walking alongside his friends who both grinned at him in return.

Sojiro wasn’t the type to truly let his emotions show, especially with other people around, and Akira wasn’t the type to point out the fact that he saw his eyes glistening under the glasses – instead, he was silently moved by how much he was really cared for. In the past four months, he didn’t see much of it.

He smiled as Sojiro patted his shoulder firmly, but as another form of silent affection. “Good to have you back, kid,” he started, quickly turning the conversation around so it didn’t leave him too vulnerable, though. Akira smiled to himself. “Everyone missed you a great deal. But don’t expect I would let you freeload! My café could use the extra help.”

“It didn’t even cross my mind,” he smiled as he climbed next to Ryuji in the backseat of the car. He was actually looking forward to helping out at Leblanc again.

“Alright!” Ryuji threw his fist into the air as the car started. “Time for us to celebrate with everyone together again tonight.”

Their phones rang in unison, indicating a group message, and perfect timing.

 **Makoto:** I’m sorry everyone, but I won’t be able to join you all tonight. I’m moving back into the university dorms today, and have less time than I anticipated.

 **Yusuke** : How unfortunate. Still, we should be able to get together the day after, too, correct?

“Man, that sucks,” Ryuji sighed, staring at his phone.

 **Makoto:** I wouldn’t want you all to cancel today because of me. I’ll stop by Leblanc tomorrow to greet Akira.

 **Yusuke:** Very well.

 **Futaba:** So considerate.

 **Ryuji:** I might be able to join you tomorrow, too. Planned to steal our guy for the evening anyway.

Akira raised a brow at him, and he got a playful nudge to the side in return. “We need to go get some food, man. It ain’t fun going to the monjayaki shop by yourself.”

He grinned before he glanced back at his phone and began typing.

 **Akira:** Sounds good. Good luck for today, Makoto.

 **Makoto:** Thank you. Welcome back, and have fun tonight!

 **Ann:** We missed you sooooo much, Akira! The rest of us are already waiting at Leblanc! ^-^

He smiled, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

*

As it turned out, Ann was even more aggressive with hugs than Futaba. She nearly knocked him off his feet the moment he stepped inside the familiar café, but he didn’t find it in himself to be even a little bothered by the sudden outbursts of affection he was getting. It all felt like home… all of them.

“It’s so good to see you! This place now feels complete again.” Her pigtails bounced excitedly like they had a life of their own as she pulled on his arm and led him further inside.

Haru giggled as she stood up from a booth, nodding in agreement. “Exactly. It’s like everything is back to how it should be.”

“The proper order of things!” Futaba marched ahead, placing Morgana on the counter.

“H-Hey now! The no cats on the counter rule still applies, you know!” Sojiro tried, but he quickly gave up with a resigned sigh. Even he didn’t feel like worrying about that now that everyone was so excited. “Eh, what the hell. I’ll start making the curry. You children enjoy yourselves.”

“Thanks, chief!” Morgana beamed, sitting idly on the spot with such vigor that Akira had a growing suspicion it might just be harder to keep him off of there after this.

“Akira! And Morgana, of course,” Yusuke quickly added, sharing a smile with Akira as he walked closer to them, aswell. “How have you been?”

“Been managing. I was just a little homesick,” he admitted.

“Oof, you might want to say stuff like that quieter, or you’ll make Sojiro cry,” Futaba whisper-shouted, making them all laugh when Sojiro’s sigh echoed from the small kitchen.

“We’ve been doing fine, but it just wasn’t the same. I made sure Akira stayed out of trouble the whole time, though,” Morgana said, puffing out his chest.

“Good job, Mona-chan,” Haru chuckled, petting his head.

“What about you guys?” Akira asked as they all moved to gather in one of the booths together. His eyes observed the café without truly realizing he was even doing it, feeling more at peace than ever in the past few months as he listened to Futaba excitedly tell him about how well she was doing in high school, about Ann’s steadily growing popularity as a model, Haru’s progress about opening her own café with Takakura-san’s help, and Yusuke’s ambitions of still bettering himself. He basked in the scents of the café mixed with the spices of the curry being prepared in the kitchen, the familiar voices and laughter that circled him, and Akira smiled, because he felt content. Almost whole.

Almost.

*

“Man, it’s oddly calming being back here, isn’t it?” Morgana asked as he stretched in the middle of his old-new room in the attic later that night. “It’s a special feeling that I can’t quite pinpoint.”

“Feels like… home?” Akira offered as he sat down onto his mattress and eyed the room. He didn’t have to do nearly as much cleaning as the first time, seeing as Sojiro no doubt kept it tidy and the same as it was for him to have a place to come back to whenever he wanted.

“Home…,” Morgana repeated, savoring the word before his eyes lit up. “I guess that’s it.”

Akira laid down, and as he stared at the ceiling, certain thoughts that he didn’t even have time to dwell on earlier began coming back to him. An empty Velvet Room, an empty cell, loss…

“Hey, are you sure you’re alright?” Morgana asked, suddenly merely an inch from his face. Akira turned to his side and gently flicked him on the nose. “Hey!”

“I’m just peachy,” he announced, closing his eyes to avoid any more questions he didn’t have a right answer to. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Whatever peaceful feeling stuck with him for the day, it was all gone as soon as he opened his eyes and saw the remains of what was once the Velvet Room. It started to seem like this was becoming a _thing_ , and he wasn’t sure if he liked that.

His eyes immediately focused on the figure sitting on the ground just a little up ahead, in the middle of the circled room, showing his back to him. Part of him wished he could disappear and wake up, while the other was eager to know what was happening. Either for Akira’s benefit or demise, the latter won.

His companion didn’t say anything as Akira slowly sat down next to him, and for a long moment, they didn’t even look at each other. He felt at loss. What do you say to the person who tried to betray and kill you, but in the end died saving you? To the person who was your rival, but only because it was planned to be that way by some greater power, although deep down you couldn’t bring yourself to hate? To someone who… was no longer around to ask why, and might have been just a figment of your imagination? Complicated didn’t even come close to describing their relationship, and despite the actual situation, it was Akira who felt defeated.

“You’re quiet,” Akechi’s voice startled him, although it was barely above a whisper. He finally glanced at him; Akechi was still staring ahead, but at least his profile he could easily take in, except for his eyes, which were hidden by his hair. Still, seeing and hearing him from so close… it felt painful.

“I’m not really sure what to say,” his words seemingly came on their own, before his mind had the chance to catch up. “I’m not even entirely sure I understand what’s going on.”

A small, rather weak smile played on Akechi’s lips, but he was still not looking at him. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Akira frowned, deciding to give in to the questions piling up in his head and just go for it, because frankly there was nothing else left for him to lose. “Why are we here? Is this place actually real, or am I dreaming it up? Are _you_ real?”

Finally, Akechi turned to look at him, and the ache became a bit stronger as maroon eyes tentatively scanned his expression, another lifeless smile appearing on his lips. “Does it really matter?”

_Yes. Yes, it does._

“I suppose it doesn’t,” he said instead, tearing his eyes away from Akechi because ironically enough now it was becoming too much. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Huh? Oh…”

Akira had patience for days, but he felt increasingly more restless as Akechi took his time answering.

“I suppose I just wanted to ask about everyone,” he eventually said. “Including you, seeing as I’ve been… out of reach.”

Akira frowned, turning back to him once again. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t anything like this. Did Akechi’s ghost decide to haunt him in his sleep to simply have idle chit-chat about his daily life? “What?” That was all that came out, rather inelegantly.

“I just wanted to inquire about the promise you made me.”

Oh. That made a lot more sense.

“We got him,” Akira assured, feeling rather stupid all of a sudden. “It was difficult, but he got his punishment. I uh… I even went to juvie for a while to help make it happen. Oh, and killed a fake god.”

“What?” This was probably the moment where Akechi – whether real or not – started to question Akira’s sanity, because the composed tone disappeared from his voice.

“It was nothing. Worth it,” he shrugged, because while it was in fact a lot and very difficult, the result was what mattered, and he kept his promise. “Even if it meant erasing the metaverse for good.”

He couldn’t read anything out of Akechi’s eyes for a moment, but whatever was on his mind, Akira intended to stop it, because he had more questions of his own. “Why didn’t you ask sooner?”

“I… wasn’t sure how to do it.”

Well, at least Akechi was willing to go along with it and respond.

“Why were you locked up in a cell the first time I saw you here? It reminded me of something that happened to me and the others before. When we were removed from people’s cognition,” he was surprised at himself for being able to keep it together well enough, considering everything that was going through his head.

Akechi was staring at him intently now, but the maroon sea showed uncertainty. “I really don’t know how any of this truly works, Kurusu,” his eyes let go of his own, and scanned the area around them instead. “Although believe me, I’d love to understand it, aswell.”

Yes, he did answer, even if it didn’t prove to be very helpful. Not that Akira could blame him.

“Thank you,” he stilled upon hearing those words, and their eyes met once again. “For ending Shido’s crimes… thank you,” Akechi’s voice was quiet, but sincere, which his eyes reflected, too.

And Akira opened his mouth, but nothing really came out, because there were too many things to say. Most of all, he didn’t feel like he should be thanked. Not overall.

Not by him.

Not like this.

But there wasn’t even time for him to say anything – he could already feel himself fading away.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, kid! Makoto’s here to see you!” Sojiro’s voice reached him all the way from downstairs, and honestly, the morning arrived all too quickly for his liking. Akira felt the early rays of sunshine on his face, but they weren’t strong enough yet to wake him up on their own. He reached for his phone slowly and smiled lazily, squinting at the time; 7.30 am. She surely didn’t waste her time.

Nevertheless, he didn’t feel any less dead. He laid there lifelessly for another moment before Morgana nudged his arm, telling him to get a move on – which, in Akira’s opinion was rich coming from a cat who spent several hours napping during the day, but he bit his tongue.

As he got dressed, he contemplated talking to Morgana about his dreams again, seeing as they were more and more frequent, but quickly decided against it. What was he supposed to say, anyway? That he kept seeing their not-so-archenemy every time he closed his eyes? He quickly discarded the idea that he merely didn’t tell Morgana because he was afraid of being disappointed by the potential reason behind it. That was nonsensical.

The cat in question was already sitting on a chair next to Makoto’s by the time he made it downstairs, Sojiro’s tentative stern gaze probably being the only reason he stayed away from the countertop.

“Akira!” Makoto’s face lit up when she spotted him, chuckling as he responded with a smile of his own. “Gosh, it’s so nice to see you here again! I’m sorry I got here rather early, I have to pick up some books after this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head as he walked to the other side of the counter, automatically picking up an apron. It felt so natural, as if no time passed at all since he last did this. He grinned at Sojiro, who looked at him with an amused tint in his expression; he didn’t ask Akira to help out yet, perhaps wanted to give him a day or two to just settle back in, but he didn’t mind. “I wanted to help out anyway,” he turned back to Makoto, but could briefly see a hint of smile playing at the edge of Sojiro’s lips in the process.

“How have you been?” Makoto asked while Sojiro busied himself with something in the kitchen, clearly not wanting to get in the way of their conversations. He quickly made a mental note on Futaba’s absence – according to her recent messages in the group chat, she’s been adamant to turn her life around and switch to being a completely morning person. Apparently it was still too early, though. Smart girl.

“It’s been alright, but not quite the same. I don’t really feel like I especially belong there anymore,” he said with a shrug, and it was, well. A half-truth. He didn’t feel like elaborating about the endless pit of self-doubts and existential questions that kept bothering him lately, or at least not this early in the morning. “It’s better to be back,” he added, for the sake of a full truth.

“Well, it’s a good thing you always have a place here, then,” she gave him a meaningful look, and he nodded, because he knew.

“How about you?” He absent-mindedly picked up a pen from on top of some notes Sojiro wrote down to busy his hands.

She sighed, eyes drifting somewhere else as she stared up at the ceiling. “Well, university’s been… difficult.”

“Even to our honor student?”

“Ha-ha,” she playfully shook her head. “I’m managing. Sis is about to debut as a defense attorney, so I’ve been doing my best, too. Baby steps, but… I definitely feel like I’m approaching my path.”

He lazily flipped the pen between his fingers. “I have no doubt that you can do it.” He really didn’t, and she smiled in response.

“ARGH, can we please talk about something other than school?” Morgana chimed in, sounding like he was forced to listen to several hours of discussion about the Spanish inquisition – at _least_. “There’s still a little left of this summer right? I’m so not looking forward to the day when you’ll become a college student, Akira.”

“Oh, you better get used to the idea. I’ll use you as my personal study buddy. I won’t need notebooks, I’ll just have you repeat the material for me when I want to revise,” he deadpanned, making Morgana groan miserably as he exchanged a look with Makoto. The café was filled with laughter within a second.

*

The fact that he decided to take a nap in the afternoon had nothing to do with his recurring unintentional visits to the Velvet Room - or at least that’s what he told himself, blaming it entirely on getting up early and helping Sojiro out. He even went as far as calling himself rusty in his mind; he had to grab on any possibility that would cross out Akechi’s – or his ghost, or simply his own imagination’s – presence out of the equation, for reasons he wasn't ready to face.

And yet there he was, now even more aware of the truth behind his intentions.

“Is this going to happen every time now when I go to sleep?” He asked, taking a seat next to whatever entity Akechi was, like this was the most natural thing he could’ve done.

“I can’t possibly tell you,” Akechi shook his head, and perhaps Akira was seeing things, but he saw amusement hidden behind his eyes.

“You’re not a whole lot of helpful, huh?”

“You’d probably argue that I never was.”

“No, but I’d argue you are wrong, which I do agree you always were,” Akira sighed with a brief shake of the head. For some reason it was still difficult to look into his eyes while talking to him, and Akechi didn’t seem too keen to keep his eyes on him either, so they both mostly just stared straight ahead, into more darkness.

He was surprised to hear a faint huff of laughter coming from next to him. “Fair enough.”

“Do you really don’t know what’s going on?” He asked, turning to him this time. Akechi shrugged, eyes still fixated on nothing in particular. He seemed… far away, in every sense. “I mean, you wanted to talk to me, we did. So why is this still happening?”

“Maybe you… have something to say to me, too?”

Akira pressed his lips together. That hit way too close to home, and he wasn’t ready to face it. Any of it. He shifted, forcing himself to relax as he dismissed the thoughts that attempted to break through his calm and collected façade. “So you’re saying now I’m the one initiating these… dreams?”

Akechi shrugged, barely visibly. Some of his locks fell into his face, so now Akira couldn’t see his eyes if he tried. It was like a makeshift curtain, a wall, separating them. “I don’t blame you for probably hating all of this. I’m likely the last person you’d want to see in your dreams.”

Instead of denying it, he sighed. “It can’t be too nice for you, either.”

He caught the glimpse of a sour smile, but Akechi didn’t say a word in response. Akira took a moment to collect his thoughts, or at least attempt to try. If this really was Akechi… if, for some unfathomable – but given everything he’d seen, likely not impossible – reason he was able to connect with his ghost, spirit, or whatever it was… maybe he should try to find out some things. Allow himself to –

“Are you lonely?” He asked quietly, his mouth clearly deciding to act on its own before his brain could’ve actually decided the best approach. He saw Akechi go still. “In… wherever you are?”

He watched as Akechi opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “I’m just not sure... where else I could go,” he admitted quietly. For a brief moment, it seemed like Akechi wasn’t even talking to him, but rather was just thinking out loud. He quickly concealed the slip of vulnerability with a rather forced huff of laugh, though. “Either way, since neither of us can really do anything about this situation, you might aswell tell me how you are doing. How… life is, I suppose.”

Akira squinted at his profile. He knew that tone well; that was one for TV, for fans, for acting. Akechi might’ve tried to shift the tone, but it was in vain, because Akira wouldn’t forget about how he sounded just a moment earlier, no way in hell. He could play along, but he wouldn’t dismiss it.

“I’m… I feel like that’s all everyone’s been asking me lately,” he sighed. He wondered what the others would think if he told them Akechi Goro was asking the same. Put him in a mental hospital, maybe. “I’m alright. Just moved back to Tokyo.”

Akechi turned to look at him so fast it should’ve been humanly impossible. Then again, it maybe was. “You… moved back?”

Akira’s brain momentarily came to a halt, but he was quick to ignore it. “I had to go back home for a bit,” he explained, figuring that Akechi asked because he had no idea about the things that actually transpired after he… left. “Couldn’t last for more than four months, though, so I’m back at Leblanc.”

There was a flash of _something_ in Akechi’s expression that he was just unable to understand, and although it was not enough to drive him crazy or make him ask more questions, it was pushing it.

“I see,” was all that Akechi said in the end, calmly, glancing away again.

_Looks like I’m not getting answers anytime soon._

He stirred when he felt a hand on his shoulder, blinking in Akechi’s direction – until he disappeared entirely, along with the Velvet Room.

“Dude…? Dude!” His best friend’s voice was echoing in his head, letting him know that it was Ryuji’s hand on his shoulder, not Akechi’s. He let out a long sigh. These dream-like shenanigans always ended way too abruptly, and Ryuji wasn’t making it any easier. “How deep is he sleeping?!”

“You moron, he’s already up,” Morgana hissed.

“Who you’re calling a moron?!”

“For the love of…,” he groaned, opening his eyes begrudgingly. He was not about to wake up to one of Morgana and Ryuji’s favorite hobbies, which was evidently annoying the other. “If you’re going to fight, take it outside. I’m recovering here.”

“From what exactly?” Morgana asked, skeptical.

He shot him a glare. “From… _moving_.”

Ryuji snorted, pushing his legs out of the way so he could take a seat on his bed. “Come on, man! I told you I’d take you out into the city now that you’re back. It’s on me.”

“Where were you earlier? Makoto was here, you said you’d come by,” he rubbed his eyes as he sat up in bed, trying to get back into reality and collect his thoughts – without much luck.

“She texted me sayin’ she was gonna come by at like seven, and I was not about to have any of that,” he stated with a shake of his head.

Ryuji’s incredulous tone made him smile, even through his disoriented and hazy mind. “Alright, alright, got it. So what’s the plan?”

He grinned widely as he jumped to his feet and reached out his hand to pull him up, too. “Just follow my lead!”

“Isn’t that one of Akira’s lines?” Morgana asked as he jumped into his bag.

“U-huh, but when it comes to food, I lead you children!” Ryuji said, no doubt happy with himself as he went for the stairs.

Akira shared a glance with Morgana as he put his bag over his shoulder. Honestly, they couldn’t really argue with that.

*

They walked through the buzzing crowd of the ever so lively Shibuya; it was surprising to admit that Akira even missed this, despite the fact that he wasn’t necessarily a fan of feeling like he was a piece of stacked tuna in a can – let alone outside, on a busy and hot late August afternoon. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel even slightly annoyed.

Apparently Ryuji’s master plan included watching a movie and then stopping by Tsukishima for some monjayaki; further reasons that cancelled out any desire for Akira to feel pained under the heat whatsoever.

“… And why are you still wearing your glasses anyway?”

“Huh?” He asked, turning back to Ryuji, trying his best to conceal that he wasn’t really paying any attention, as he was busy staring off into space, buried in his thoughts.

Luckily this was Ryuji, who didn’t take it personally at all, but instead just rolled his eyes as he walked closer and snatched his glasses away.

“Hey!”

“As I was sayin’,” he began, placing his glasses on the top of his head like they were sunglasses. “I thought you said that you didn’t need them anymore, that you’re just gonna be yourself and not hide behind this mask in particular.”

Ryuji had a point, he did say that.

“I miss my real mask, so this is like a coping mechanism,” he offered, eyeing them on the top of his friend’s head with such intent that perhaps if he still had his powers he could’ve made them come right back to him. “I like the comfort.”

“This is so sad,” Ryuji sighed, even closing his eyes for dramatic effect. Just as Akira was about to take advantage of the moment and reach for them, Ryuji slapped his hand away.

_Damn it. Reflexes fast as always._

“Well, today I’m here for comfort, so you don’t need these.”

Akira just sighed like a martyr, knowing his fate was already decided. “Just give them back after dinner.”

“I’ll consider it,” Ryuji said with a grin as he continued walking.

As Akira began following him, his eyes caught a glimpse of something… of someone? He turned, squinting in the direction of where he believed he saw a familiar silhouette. He stood there for a moment, confused. Maybe the heat was messing with his head.

“Yo, you comin’?” He heard Ryuji’s voice from up ahead. He turned to look at him, then back to the direction where he thought he saw something; nothing. There were a lot of people swarming the streets, but none looked familiar.

“Akira?” Morgana called, sticking his head out of his bag.

He frowned, then just shook his head and continued walking with a nonchalant smile. “It’s nothing.”

Whatever he saw was long out of mind by the time they walked out of the monja shop that night, feeling full and pleasantly tired.

“Oh man, I’m telling you I missed you so bad,” Ryuji whined as they started walking towards the station.

“You do know that you can come and eat by yourself too, right?” Akira shook his head with a small laugh. Although he had no doubt that Ryuji did in fact miss him, he had a wild guess that this specific outburst of emotion had more to do with monja.

Ryuji shot him a borderline offended glance. “Yeah, and how pitiful is that?”

“Did you never bring Yusuke?”

“Uh, yeah… once,” Ryuji’s brows furrowed, like he was thinking back to something unpleasant.

“Was it bad?” He grinned.

“I mean… not in general! But he tried to ask the waiter for paper because he wanted to draw the food arrangement, dude,” Ryuji sounded miserable, but Akira couldn’t help but laugh. That did sound like Yusuke.

“How about the others?”

“As a group it’s fine I suppose.”

He raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Morgana popped his head out of his bag, like on cue. “I bet he’s afraid to bring the girls here, because he thinks Haru and Makoto might be too sophisticated for a place like this.”

Ryuji rolled his eyes. “Not really, I mean… yeah, kinda. But it’s not that I think our girls would have a problem with the place, but more like…,” he scratched his head, trying to find his words. “Well, let’s say if I invited Ann, it’d be disastrous.”

“Lady Ann would likely make sure the monjayaki ends up on your head before the end of the evening,” Morgana chuckled almost menacingly.

“Cut it out, Mona,” Ryuji hissed, but his expression changed quickly as he looked back at him, defeated. “But yeah, basically.”

“I know you two like to bicker but I think that’s a bit of a stretch,” Akira shrugged.

“Really?” Ryuji’s eyes lit up at once.

He nodded. “For sure. She might throw her drink in your face, but probably not the monja –”

“Okay, alright,” Ryuji stopped him with a wave of his hand. Morgana was having something close to a laughing fit in his bag, and Akira almost felt bad, but not enough; he reached forward while Ryuji was busy sulking and grabbed his glasses from the top of his head.

“I’m joking,” he reassured, patting him on the back as his friend gave him a dejected look. “If you want to take Ann out on a date, you shouldn’t be afraid to.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Ryuji raised his hands up in defense, looking every bit offended, implying he didn't find the suggestion funny - which was a pity, because Akira thought it was hilarious. “Who said anything about dating?!”

“What are you talking about?!” Morgana chimed in, sounding more offended than Ryuji, if possible. “Don’t give him ideas! Not like he’d have a chance but –”

“Oh, sorry,” he fixed his glasses with one hand, hardly being able to keep a straight face. “I thought that’s what you were trying to say.”

“Hell no!” Ryuji protested, already beginning to march ahead; Akira had a funny thought it was to hide his embarrassment, but he didn’t want to push him, so he merely smirked to himself. “As if I even considered a date with her.”

“So I’m the only one you take out, Sakamoto-senpai?” He asked in an over the top flirty voice.

“Oh, shut up!” Ryuji laughed, rolling his eyes as he nudged him playfully. They shared a laugh on the quiet street while Morgana groaned from inside his bag. The peace had been restored.

As they were walking through a crossroad, he felt it again. That sensation of being watched, observed, like that time in the Velvet Room. He could almost feel it piercing at the nape of his neck, and he turned back instinctively, searching the street.

Just a brief second of a pair of eyes glancing at him from the distance, eyes that were all too familiar and seeming vaguely maroon even from far away and despite the dark street, and Akira froze in place.

Then, with just a blink of an eye, it was gone. He was gone.

He kept staring, then blinked again, but nothing happened. There was no one there.

He was going to be sick.

“… Akira!” Morgana’s screech pulled him back into reality, and his head snapped back to Ryuji, who was standing a good few meters from him, confused. They probably called his name a few times.

“I’m okay,” he said quickly, although he didn’t sound one bit convincing. He quickened his steps and caught up to him, all too aware of Morgana’s front paws burying inside his shoulders – a clear sign of not being convinced indeed.

“Dude, what’s gotten into you?” Ryuji asked, concern evident in his voice. “You just… blanked for a few. I know you stare off into the distance occasionally, but this felt odd. Freaked me out.”

He tried his best to shrug it off as best as he could. He looked him straight in the eye, whispering. “I see dead people.”

“… Huh?” He forgot for a second that Ryuji wasn’t big at foreign movies and their references.

“Oh my god, please,” sighed Morgana, who – thanks to him – very much was.

“I’m just playing you,” he shook his head, trying for his most convincing smile. “I just thought I saw something. Let’s go.”

For the whole way back, he tried his best to ignore the possibility that he was officially going crazy, and was now potentially also seeing things – or worse, that the cause of his misery would sweep into his reality even while he was awake.

*

“Hey, Morgana?” He asked later that night, just as he was getting ready for bed.

“Hmm?” Morgana was busy cleaning himself on the window seal.

Akira promised himself he wouldn’t try and ask more than necessary, not before he felt ready, but considering everything, he was starting to freak out. He figured he might aswell at least ask about a _part_ of his worries. “Do you think…,” he stopped as he sat on his bed, biting his lip.

“What is it?” Morgana asked, sitting up properly to look at him. That meant trouble; he was watching him with intent now, and boy was it difficult to conceal anything from Mona.

He relaxed and allowed the tension to leave his body as he shrugged, acting like he was just asking a question without any significant importance whatsoever. “Is it possible to see dead people in the metaverse?”

Morgana eyed him a moment longer, whilst Akira dearly hoped he didn’t make a connection with what he said earlier, and then jumped down onto his bed. “No. Not in actuality.”

He frowned, then immediately smoothened his features. He couldn’t show how that response was something he was dreading to hear. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, am I!” Morgana, metaverse specialist number once since he regained his memories, puffed his chest with pride. “I know what I’m talking about. Just think back to the prison of regression. We saw the shadow of everyone we reformed, except for Haru’s father.”

He nodded slowly. “What about Futaba’s mom in her Palace?”

“In the end?” He nodded, just as Morgana shook his head. “That was just caused by her changed cognition of her mother, not her actual ghost.”

He was silent for a moment, trying to process what it all meant, and not liking it one bit.

“Despite the many cool things we were capable of, we can’t talk to the dead,” Morgana added, like another confirmation. Akira nodded as he moved to lie down like it was really nothing important.

Except it was, and he needed to put his head down because it was spinning… this was one revelation he was afraid of, because even if he was still confused by a handful of things, one thing was now for certain; the Akechi he’d been seeing in his dreams wasn’t real. Couldn’t be.

He forced his eyes shut. The worst thing was that despite already having that suspicion, it still made him feel disappointed.

He felt Morgana getting comfortable by his side, and wondered what he would say if he actually told him all of it. He knew before he fell asleep that he’d see Akechi again. And funnily enough, despite being aware he just dreamed him up, he didn’t feel like he wanted to talk to him any less.

For the first time since he’d been frequenting this strange place in his dreams, he didn’t know how to act, or what to say. He wondered if it was odd… to feel more collected with Akechi while thinking he was really there, than when he found out it was just something his own mind created. An illusion – a pretty punishing one, but one nonetheless.

He sat tentatively next to his mind’s ghost, and for once, he didn’t stop himself from looking at him. He took in his attire perhaps for the first time; khakis and the sweater vest he was used to seeing on certain afternoons when he visited Leblanc. He dismissed the memories.

He focused on his clothes instead, and wondered if he could change them, given that this was all happening inside his head, and he was aware he was dreaming. Like a sort of test. He closed his eyes, imagining them both in their metaverse outfits.

“Is something wrong?” Akechi’s voice caused his eyes to snap open. He was looking at him this time, probably suspicious because of the immense silence.

Akira’s eyes flickered back to their clothes. Nothing changed. Perhaps it wasn’t that simple… after all, Akechi seemed like he had a mind of his own, even if Akira’s projected him. There was likely something more to it... with him, there always was. He wondered if he could reach out and touch him – that he didn’t attempt to try, though.

He looked Akechi in the eye, wondering if they will haunt him until eternity. “I just found myself wishing you were real,” he voiced, not feeling the need to hold back now that there was nothing on stake. The other end of the line simply didn’t exist, even if his mind did a great job at trying to make him think otherwise.

“Pardon me?” Akechi did seem a little caught off guard.

“Apparently you can’t communicate with the dead, not even in the metaverse,” he said, watching as something seemed to click in Akechi’s expression. “So it seems like you really are just something I dreamed up.”

For a moment, Akechi was silent. “That must be inconvenient. For you to deal with me in your dreams,” he said in the end, tearing his glance from him with a look in his eyes that Akira wished he could pinpoint.

He shrugged. “It happens pretty often.”

“Does it?” Just like that, his eyes were back on him, a single brow raised in surprise.

“Yes, but not quite like this,” he answered honestly, not feeling the need to hide from his own subconscious. “This feels different. More real. It’s almost scary.”

“And yet you wish it was real?”

He nodded, glancing up at the ceiling – or rather, where there was supposed to be one. It was just pitch blackness.

“Why?” Akechi’s tone sounded almost urgent.

Akira let out a sigh, shaking his head. “I’m not sure. Maybe you were right, and I do have things that I wanted to say to you. I guess it would be nice if I actually could.”

Silence again.

After a while, Akira glanced at him again curiously – it’s been quiet too long.

“You could still try,” Akechi said, as if he was just reminded he’d been silent. “Maybe it could still help you.”

Akira thought about that for a moment, eyeing the Akechi his mind created. It was all too spot on… he felt a strange sense of gratitude, because if nothing else, he could preserve his appearance this way.

Even if the Akechi in his mind was currently looking at him like he was almost afraid of what he’d say. “If you want to let it out and tell me to go to hell, now is your perfect opportunity,” he offered, and Akira frowned. Not at the idea that Akechi would think he would want to throw spiteful words at him if given the chance, but at the fact that despite his perfect acting and cheerful expression, he could spot the worry in his eyes.

“Perhaps you are in hell and it’s actually you dreaming about me?” Akira joked, breaking through his mask and making him smile, just briefly. “Eternal tormenting by the guy you’d likely least want to see!”

The smile disappeared from Akechi’s face as fast as it appeared. “I wouldn’t say that.”

It was almost amusing how fast he felt himself tense up, frowning a little.

“Shido is the last person I’d want to see,” Akechi quickly stated, matter of factly. “You’re a close second, though.”

For better or worse, but they both laughed a little this time. It made Akira wonder about what could’ve been. If Akechi was there with them in reality, would they bicker like this? Would he get to know the guy who played a role almost all his life?

“You are my biggest regret,” he stated seriously this time, Akechi’s eyes focused on his, widening briefly before that imperceptible emotion flashed in them again.

“I can’t blame you for that…,” his voice was hushed. Distant.

Akira shook his head, because he didn’t understand. “It’s because I couldn’t save you.”

There were various emotions present on Akechi’s face, and Akira could count them one by one. Disbelief, surprise, fear, denial, frustration…

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have – I was beyond saving,” he managed to say.

“I don’t agree,” he shrugged, rather simply.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he turned away from him again, his hair covering his eyes. The edge of his lip that was visible from this angle was twitching slightly, almost like he was fighting a smile and a cry at the same time. “You would’ve just put yourselves in danger. I didn’t want more people to die because of me. You… had each other to rely on and move forward. I didn’t have anything remaining. At least I could do one good thing one last time. Don’t you dare blaming yourself for it.”

Akira stared, slightly taken aback. This dream really was all too punishing. He wondered a hundred and one times about what he would tell Akechi if he had the chance to see him again. He didn’t think it’d happen like this, and for a moment he wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for his subconscious or to damn it to hell.

“I didn’t necessarily mean your sacrifice, although I will always think it was a foolish move,” he turned to Akechi, even if he wasn’t looking at him. “I meant in general… this is what I wanted to tell you. I feel like I could’ve saved you, even before. I keep feeling like I had the chance, and I let it pass me by. And for that, I apologize.”

Akechi turned back to look at him incredulously, his expression pained and his eyes almost angry. Despite the anger though, it seemed like they were red for an entirely different reason. “What are you –”

“For being the only person I couldn’t save,” Akira cut him off, voice steady, calm and genuine as he kept the eye contact although it seemed like Akechi’s eyes were searching his, moving almost frantically, like he was trying to spot the lie in them. But there weren’t any. “I’m sorry.”

He woke up to an uncomfortable feeling in his throat, taking in a big breath like someone was actually squeezing at his neck before he came to. He sat up, realizing that his throat kept tightening up, which inevitably made him feel like he was choking. Akira was never really the type of person to cry. It just wasn’t his style; he was framed and sent away from his hometown, but he didn’t drop a single tear. He was called names and judged, he went through different worlds and received false charges then went back home, only for it to never be the same, but he never cried about any of it. Not once. He kept himself in check and tried to be the strong person his friend group viewed him as, especially after everything.

His eyes scanned the room, noting that Morgana wasn’t there; the window was open, he was likely taking a night stroll. Realizing he was alone, he let out a shaky breath, making that tight feeling somehow grow worse. It’s been a lot, and he was about to give up. There were things surfacing tonight, even if just in his dreams, that he kept buried away, hidden and way too deep, now threatening to crush him without mercy.

That’s why, for the first time in ages, for all that was lost and never to be the same again, Akira cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take a moment and thank you for the kudos and comments on the first chapter, this honestly had a better debut than I could've anticipated (figured there might be two people who'd read this??) and I'm beyond grateful. I hope it continues to reach you and you keep enjoying it :)
> 
> PS I really wanted to post another chapter after the new trailers today but that almost didn't happen as i was screaming about it for half of the day. Nevertheless, somehow made it, so i hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

Considering how much Akira wished morning came later the previous day, it was somewhat ironic just how slowly time seemed to pass now when he was looking forward to it. He couldn’t fall back asleep after the dream he had, the conversation with Akechi – the fact that he wasn’t real seemingly irrelevant when it came down to heavy conscience – and more so, the effect it had on him kept Akira up, reducing him to tossing and turning for the rest of the night.

He stared at the shadows the wind chimes casted on the walls and ceiling, and forced his mind into blankness. He didn’t even feel tired after a while, and pretended to sleep when Morgana came back inside through the window. Akira wasn’t sure if his ever so loyal companion took a note of him being awake, but watched with one eye open as Morgana curled into a ball next to his leg. Whether he noticed or not, Akira was glad he didn’t say a word, as he had no desire to explain anything anyway – he was just immensely glad the strange outburst he had earlier was gone by the time Morgana came back.

He was painfully aware of almost every passing minute, but he stayed still, trying not to let his mind wander. Something was seriously wrong with him, and he had no idea what to do about it, how to fix it. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t want to go back to sleep.

*

“Hey!” He stirred, nearly spilling the coffee he was preparing as Futaba hit him on the head with a folded gaming magazine of some sort. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sure,” he lied blatantly, because admittedly, he didn’t.

Futaba gave him the exact look in response that told him she didn’t believe him one bit.

He sighed, placing the cup down on the counter before scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry. Rough night.”

Her expression turned from grumpy to worried right away, and Akira immediately felt bad.

“Are you alright?”

Frankly, he was nowhere near alright, but the last thing he wanted was causing his friends to worry. He was out of the bed as soon as the first rays of sunshine appeared through the windows, and had been helping Sojiro hours before Futaba eventually arrived at around 9. He still felt overall wired wrong, and didn't yet figure out how to make it stop.

“Fine,” he shrugged, already knowing full well she won’t just leave it at that.

She maintained eye contact with him for several seconds, until just a very thin line was left of them. It was really rather impressive.

“Well, alrighty,” she spun around the bar stool once Akira was reluctant to blink, and hopped off. “I’ll just tell Mona to keep an eye on you. More than usual.”

He sighed, feeling his shoulders sink. “I’ll talk to you after I’m done here.”

Futaba jumped into some sort of victory pose, to which he fondly shook his head. He didn’t intend to let her in on everything, but perhaps there was something she was able to help with.

“Welcome to my office. So how may I help you?”

Akira took a seat opposite to Futaba in a booth later that day while Sojiro was preparing lunch for them. She seemed to enjoy the situation, looking like some sort of magician slash psychiatrist, who was ready to lead him towards the right path and provide him with all the answers he needed. Akira doubted that was true, but he couldn’t deny he could use some talking, and with the questions on his mind, Futaba seemed to be the best option.

He glanced to where Morgana was napping on the adjacent window sill, happy and pleasantly full. He sighed, looking back to Futaba. Now was the time to get right to the point.

“I actually wanted to ask you about… hallucinations.”

Her eyes widened, clearly not what she was expecting. “Huh?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering what they were like when you had to deal with them. Aside from… horrible,” he winced. He didn’t intend to bring up painful memories from her darkest times, but he needed some answers and knew she wouldn’t hold it against him, either.

Futaba readjusted herself and moved into a crouching position on the chair, seeming pensive, although Akira couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t nerves instead. “They were hard to distinguish from reality. I knew it wasn’t real, simply by logic, but it… still messed with my head a lot.”

She stared down at the table for a moment, then quickly back at him as she reached out to grab his arm, as if she just realized something. “Wait. Akira, are you… seeing things?”

“Kind of?” He sighed once more, scratching his head. “I’m not sure. Sometimes when I’m outside I keep thinking I see someone, but then no one is there.”

“Who is it?”

Akira hesitated for a moment. He really didn’t want to go _there_.

“I can’t really tell.”

“Hmm…”

“I just feel like I’m losing it.”

“Are they auditory too? Do you hear them?”

_Only in my dreams._

“No. It’s just like… seeing glimpses of them. Only when I’m outside, too.”

Futaba frowned, then let one of her legs down, and hugged the other. “Maybe it’s nothing, and it’s just you being back here, with all the memories. We all went through a lot.”

“You think?”

She tried to be comforting, but somehow he wasn’t convinced.

“It’s totally possible. I wouldn’t worry so much until you begin actively seeing something and they start talking to you,” after a while, she grinned. “And if it does happen and you lose your mind, well… I still love you.”

She reached across the table to pat his head. “Right, thanks.”

Futaba laughed, shaking her head. “I’m just messing with you! I think you’re just having a hard time with some things, and it takes a toll on you. Happens even to the best of us.”

He nodded with a small smile, as it did make sense. It really did, except deep down he just knew it couldn’t be that simple, no matter how much he wished it was.

And maybe that's why he decided to text Yusuke after lunch.

 **Akira:** What are you doing today? It’s been a while, can we hang out?

Talking to Futaba was helpful in a way, even if it didn’t actually solve all his problems, nor it made most of his worries go away. At least now he knew that things could’ve been worse overall, and just maybe he wasn’t _entirely_ losing his mind. Yet. Still, he wanted to distance himself from all his thoughts in a calming presence, and no matter what everyone said, being around Yusuke was the best way to achieve that.

His phone chimed just on cue.

 **Yusuke:** I’m mostly alone in the dormitories, working on something.

 **Yusuke:** I’d love the company. You’d be most welcome to visit me.

He glanced at Morgana curled up on Futaba’s lap and grabbed his bag.

 **Akira:** I’m heading your way.

“Going somewhere?” Morgana asked, opening just one eye as Akira pocketed the phone.

“I’m gonna go check on Yusuke, he wants me to help with a piece,” that was almost a full truth.

“Don’t get naked,” was all Futaba commented, not even glancing up from her laptop.

From the corner of his eye he could see Sojiro shaking his head behind the counter, clearly not even wanting to think about what that might mean. As for Akira, he didn’t feel the need to give a response to that.

“I’ll be back,” he announced instead, waving a hand at them before walking out the door.

*

Akira didn’t particularly pay attention to his surroundings as he took the subway to Kosei’s dorms, partly because he didn’t want to think about how his mind would attempt to play tricks on him, and the other part being that he really wanted to move past the constant gloom following him everywhere, which he could only do by at least attempting to relax.

And that’s what he was doing.

“You seem preoccupied,” Yusuke mused.

… Clearly not well enough.

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

He was sitting on the bed in Yusuke’s room, watching his friend seemingly immersed in a painting he was working on just opposite him – and Akira had to give it to him, it was quite perceptive on Yusuke’s part to still notice that something was off with him.

He lowered the palette in his hand and glanced at him. “Akira, do you remember the time I freshly joined our group, and you said you’d lend an ear in case I had anything troubling me?”

He nodded slowly. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Well,” Yusuke’s eyes let go of his and his hands got to work again. “You were the first person to tell me that, and you kept your word. Therefore I would like you to know that I am offering you the same.”

He smiled to himself. Yusuke’s nature, his way of words and his whole being was not quite what you’d call average, but perhaps that was one of the reasons why Akira cherished him. He knew very well that he could count on him anytime – on all of them, really –, and perhaps it was time to let it out and actually talk, because another good thing about Yusuke was the fact that he never felt the need to make a big deal out of anything.

Akira glanced at the dust particles dancing near the window where the afternoon sun painted them golden, just above Yusuke’s shoulder, and the calm feeling returned to him at once. He exhaled slowly.

“I haven’t been doing well lately, to be honest.”

“What is on your mind?” Yusuke’s tone remained smooth, and he kept his eyes on his work, aswell. It helped.

“I just feel like I’m stuck in this dark place,” Akira began, trying to collect his thoughts along with the essence of the grim feeling that followed him everywhere in the past months. “I can’t seem to find the way out, either. I thought coming back here would help, and in a way it does, but in the other, it seems to make things worse.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I think…,” he bit his lower lip, staring up at the ceiling helplessly. “I think it might be because the source of it is related to what happened here.”

“So… you have an idea about what the source might be, I presume.”

“Regret. Failure,” the words left his lips without him even needing to give it a second thought.

Yusuke’s eyes left his painting to lock eyes with him just for a brief moment before they let go again. “And loss?”

His friend’s words felt like sharp needles that pierced right through his body before shattering all around him on the wooden floor along with the shards of glass of his carefully built up wall of denial, serving only to try and protect himself with it.

But now it was out there, with his walls down just like that, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Yusuke was right. It _was_ loss. Grief.

“Yeah…,” his voice sounded raspy, so he cleared his throat. “Yeah, and loss.”

“Akira,” Yusuke said his name calmly, and Akira clung to it like that was the only thing keeping him from falling into some sort of breakdown right there, which he was not about to stand for. “I only sincerely hope you are not blaming yourself.”

When he remained silent, Yusuke’s eyes found his again, but now he couldn’t hold his stare. He ducked his head like a child that was caught doing something bad.

They both knew Akira was doing exactly that; blaming himself.

“Feeling loss after what happened is nothing out of the ordinary, but blaming yourself is not going to make it better. You _know_ you couldn’t have done anything.”

“Couldn’t I?” He looked back up, his tone almost challenging. Not directed at Yusuke, but rather at himself.

Yusuke’s features softened. “Akira…”

“I could’ve, and that is the truth. I had the power, even with most of us weakened, and I had… really, plenty of time to act –”

“You didn’t know what was going to happen. Neither of us did, and we were all caught off guard by what was unfolding before us.”

He shook his head. “Those are not really excuses.”

Akira remembered too vividly, and whenever he revisited the memory, he found several ways in his mind where he could’ve acted and potentially changed the outcome. He also remembered what it felt like to walk away after, to lead the others and get them out of there safely, and to give them confidence without letting himself waver, while in reality he was numb, shocked and in need of guidance, too.

“If it were me, I wouldn’t want you to feel that way.”

“What?” He glanced up at him again with a frown.

Yusuke didn’t seem like he felt the need to repeat it, because he likely knew that Akira was aware of what he meant, too. “I’m sure he didn’t blame you either.”

… And that stung.

Akira recalled the dreams he had, where Akechi expressed exactly that – which was the only part that didn’t make sense considering his mind made him up. Because if he was going to be honest, he was under the impression that the Akechi from his subconscious would do anything but forgive him; maybe even spit on him for emphasis. It wouldn’t be odd, as it was to stem from his own guilt and inability to forgive himself. So why it didn’t happen like that, he had no idea. The whole thing was beyond confusing.

Either way, for better or worse, but Akira didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He was thrown off balance lately, especially with the dreams and hallucination-like things happening, certain details he didn’t wish to bring up at this moment. He couldn’t trust himself to keep it together, no matter how calming his friend’s presence was.

He nodded slowly instead, voice sincere when he spoke. “Thank you, Yusuke.”

“Oh, please,” Yusuke brushed him off – quite literally, flicking the end of his brush in his direction dismissively. “There is nothing to thank.”

Except there was, because he did manage to make him feel better, even by just being able to talk to him – the fact that Akira knew he wouldn’t quite be able to forgive himself was not Yusuke’s fault, after all.

He stood with a smile and walked over to his friend, looking at the piece he was working on. Yusuke didn’t exaggerate when he said he worked a lot to better himself – although if someone were to ask Akira, he was already incredibly talented.

“It looks amazing,” he didn’t really have an especially good eye for art, but he recognized quality. The color combinations and the composition itself gave him a specific impression, akin to a feeling of strength, which he guessed was probably the point.

“Ah yes, thank you,” Yusuke stepped back a little, admiring his own work before glancing at him with a small smile. “Your presence always helps me greatly.”

That was somewhat ironic to say about this particular piece, because Akira was currently feeling everything but strength.

“Even when I only bring gloom with me?”

His friend laughed a little. “Even then.”

“Well,” Akira grinned, patting his back gently. “I’ll gladly bring depression along for painting purposes anytime.”

“Just with moderation, if you could,” Yusuke gave him a look before he shook his head fondly. “I still want to paint your smile one day.”

And despite everything, Akira couldn’t stop himself from smiling right away.

The topic from then on changed to more lighthearted ones, and Akira actually, legitimately found himself relaxing for the rest of his visit. Getting some of _that_ out of his chest surely helped, too, but by the time he left Yusuke’s dorms later that evening, he felt a little more stable than before.

*

The calm and stable feeling however lasted only until he felt that specific feeling again when getting off the subway at Yongen. It was creeping up at the nape of his neck and reaching the back of his head. Akira was being aware of being watched to an extent so intense he could almost physically feel the stare piercing through his skin.

He spun around, almost breathless, glancing left and right without spotting anything out of the ordinary; just the crowd going in and out of the cars. There were too many people around – some even pushing past him in the process – to spot anyone familiar. Akira knew exactly who his eyes were searching for, although he felt rather conflicted. Seeing him would’ve reaffirmed that he was indeed losing it.

He went for the stairs instead, but the feeling didn’t vanish – not through the road, the tiny streets, and when he turned back once more, he caught a glimpse of that silhouette again. Just a glimpse, nothing more, and he was _definitely_ losing it. He turned back and ran for it, passing Leblanc’s street and going right for the clinic.

He just about crashed through the door, no doubt barely missing to startle Takemi into a heart attack.

“What the –”

He tried to catch his breath as he weakly gave her a wave. Just as expected, the feeling was gone as soon as he stepped inside. “Hey, doc.”

Takemi raised her brows in amusement. “Well, if it isn’t my guinea pig.”

“The very one.”

She took in the way he was still attempting to catch his breath, no doubt looking disheveled. “Did you run here all the way from your hometown, by chance?”

He let out a half-laugh, walking closer to her desk. “No, I… I really need your help.”

After a better glance, her expression changed, showing nothing but concern as she leaned forward a little, and oh boy, he saw a lot of that lately. “Akira, are you okay?”

“I don’t think so.”

That was seemingly enough for Takemi to stand up and gesture towards the door in front of him. “To the examination room you go.”

“Hallucinations?”

He was sitting on the examination table, like he did many times in the previous year while trying to help Takemi come up with the perfect medicine to heal her patient. It worked out, so he merely hoped this would, too.

“Yes, I’m… seeing things, every time I go out now. It needs to stop.”

She sighed, not really sounding convinced as she removed the blood pressure monitor from his arm.

“You don’t think it’s serious,” he stated, rather than asked.

“Look, Akira, I just… I know your medical history and your responses like the palm of my hand at this point, there is nothing there that would suggest you’d develop anything this drastic.”

“But _something_ is happening.”

“Yes,” she nodded, motioning towards the monitor. “Your heartrate is running wild, and you were breathless. You are jumpy.”

“So you’re saying –”

“It’s like you’re panicking.”

He shook his head. “Panic reactions wouldn’t make me see someone.”

“Akira, dear, just please answer my questions.”

He shrugged with a nod, not knowing what else to do.

“Have you been under a lot of stress lately? Are you anxious? Any chance you’re going through something very difficult?”

He hated that he had to nod. All of that was true.

“Listen, I understand that it’s scary, but sometimes the human mind just plays tricks on us, especially when we’re pushing ourselves very hard, and going through a lot. You need to rest, and find a way to deal with it inside. But you are _not_ losing your mind.”

He glanced at her, raising a single brow. “It feels like I am.”

“Just trust me,” Takemi crossed her legs and arms at the same time, as if to say there was no place for doubting her. “There is nothing wrong with your head, aside from being a little overwhelmed.”

Akira sighed with defeat. “Alright, so can you give me something to… make them go away? For stress?”

“I honestly think you just need to rest and find it in yourself to let go of whatever is causing you so much trouble.”

Letting go, yes. That wasn’t going to happen so easily.

“I’d rather have the pill,” he deadpanned.

“And I’d rather not poison your body with unnecessary medication.”

He snorted. “Well, that’s a change.”

Takemi gave him a look, but it quickly turned into a smile. “You’re going to be _fine_. Just try to rest and keep your calm. The next time you feel it, don’t run away, and face it. Once you see there is really nothing there, it will go away.”

“Fine, but if I won’t get better –”

“You know where to find me,” she reassured.

*

He had a hard time falling asleep that night. He was going through what Futaba, Yusuke and Takemi told him, and tried to tell himself that perhaps the solution really was to face his own regrets and somehow try to cut himself some slack. If only he knew how to do that.

But that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want to fall asleep. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Akechi in his dreams again. After last night, after certain self-revelations, and with all the uncertainty and confusion he felt on top of everything else, it might just turn out to be even more difficult.

He almost felt grateful when he felt his phone buzz, a new text from Ryuji serving as another reason to stall.

 **Ryuji:** Hey man, are you free tomorrow?

Morgana curiously peeked at his phone from next to his pillow as he typed a reply.

 **Akira:** Sure, what’s up?

 **Ryuji:** Sweet! We haven’t trained together in a long while, and I feel like I’ve been slacking off.

 **Ryuji:** Just ‘cause we’re not phantom thieves anymore doesn’t mean we should stop exercising. Wanna do that tomorrow?

If Akira wanted to be honest, he could’ve probably used a good work out.

 **Akira:** Sure, I’ll see you tomorrow then.

“If you go train with Ryuji tomorrow, you should probably get some sleep,” Morgana suggested.

“Right, sleep.”

It was exactly what he didn’t want to do. Unfortunately though, he was tired, and his body didn’t share his idea about staying up all night – especially after barely getting any sleep in the first place.

He sighed once he found himself in the not-so-Velvet Room again, grimly accepting that he must’ve failed the mission of not even closing his eyes that night. Except after only a moment, he realized that something was different.

Akechi wasn’t sitting at his usual spot.

He felt so many – very different – things at once, he couldn’t exactly pinpoint which emotion ended up surfacing; confusion, relief, or disappointment. As he turned around, that question lost its relevance, though.

“Looking for me?” Akechi smiled sourly, standing a few steps away from him.

By this point, he should’ve been used to seeing him, so realistic and… several other things he didn’t want to think about, but he wasn’t. All Akira could do was nod half-heartedly.

“Look, I really think this whole thing should stop now,” he began, and for a moment Akira wasn’t even sure what Akechi meant by that. “We both said what we wanted to, so there’s no more reason for me to… keep haunting you in your sleep.”

Akira snorted. “So that’s what this was?”

“I assume it’s a way to say it, is it not?”

There was silence for a moment, and then Akechi spoke again.

“This will be the last time. I came to say… goodbye.”

Perhaps he truly lost his mind, but that didn’t sit well with Akira. When he thought back now to how he felt when he didn’t find Akechi here just moments ago, perhaps disappointment outshined the other two feelings.

“No.”

Akechi raised a brow, confused. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he shrugged.

This might've just been one of the first times he saw Akechi at loss for words – whatever he expected Akira’s reaction would be, it was clearly not this.

“Why would you want this to continue?” Akechi sounded beyond puzzled. As for Akira, he greatly enjoyed it, though.

He opened his mouth to say something witty in response, but then he reminded himself that this Akechi was not real, just projected by his mind, and he didn’t have a reason to lie about it.

“Because this is the only way I can still see and talk to you.”

… Never mind, _now_ he seemed at loss. But only for a moment.

“Then let me change the question; why would you want to see me after what happened?”

That was a very valid question, with the only problem being that Akira didn’t have a clear answer.

“I don’t know, why did you?” He figured throwing the ball right back was as good of a response as any.

“I just don’t want to keep causing you trouble,” Akechi said, skillfully dodging said ball. “Especially after what you said last time, I don’t want to make it more difficult.”

“How very magnanimous!”

“I’m serious, Kurusu,” Akechi took just a step towards him, completely disregarding his comment. “You’ve got to stop blaming yourself, and instead start leaving the past behind as it should be.”

He bit down on his tongue, because that hit way too close to home.

“My presence, talking to you in some… some sort of dream reality won’t help you move past it. But I at least wanted to tell you that you should.”

He was the one to take a step this time, raising a brow. “I thought we established you were just created by my subconscious, so why would my mind decide to give me a pep talk?”

Akechi shrugged. “Maybe because deep down you are also aware that you should let it go.”

Akira wanted to say a lot of things to that, but instead just nodded and folded his arms on his chest. “So how about occasional dreams?”

“What?”

“Yeah, so this doesn’t happen _every night_ , but… sometimes.”

Despite everything, Akechi seemed humored for a second. “That is still completely against my point –”

“Look, I was fine before you just suddenly popped up in my dreams like this, so now you might aswell finish what you started and talk to me once in a while.”

“That’s fair,” he admitted, shifting his weight from one leg to another. “But it wouldn’t help you get rid of your self-blame.”

“You don’t know that, perhaps you should start every one of those future conversations with repeating it wasn’t my fault. Maybe eventually I’ll hear it enough from you to start to believe it.”

It seemed like Akechi was trying his best not to allow himself to smile. “Right. It wasn’t your fault, though.”

“Sure,” Akira said, although he was aware they both knew he didn’t get any closer to believing that.

“If you don’t start to believe me, though…” Akechi began, but just in the time it took Akira to blink, he was gone from his sight – much like how it felt in reality lately, his presence gone within a second.

He could feel his heartrate pick up again as he turned on his heel, glancing in every possible direction without luck. Just then, it was only his voice left that he could hear clearly.

“… I’ll haunt you for sure.”

Akira jolted awake abruptly, but not violently enough to wake Morgana. He glanced around his room as he tried to level his breathing, noting that it was still dark outside. He exhaled slowly as he closed his eyes, attempting to go back to sleep despite the growing suspicion that he wouldn’t get to talk to him more. He tried to ignore the possibility of it being final.

In the end, for better or worse, Akira didn’t have any dreams for the rest of the night.

*

“Are you alright, kid?” Sojiro asked as he glanced up at him from his crossword puzzle while Akira was sipping his presumably third coffee that day. Not that he was counting.

It was a comfortably leisure day at Leblanc, with even fewer customers and more time to sit around, perhaps because of the gloomy weather outside.

“Sure, just still readjusting.”

He felt bad that his emotional baggage was now big enough for Sojiro to pick up on it, because he especially didn’t want him to worry. He promised himself that morning when he concluded with a grim feeling that his dream escapades might’ve ended permanently that he’d try to deal with it, take everyone’s advice and just attempt to find his way back to himself. For everyone’s sake, including his own. He couldn’t guarantee it was going to work, but he at least wanted to make the effort.

“Huh, if you say so,” was all that Sojiro said, which was promising. His worrying couldn’t have yet gone over at least mid-level, otherwise he’d probably be asking more questions.

“Hey, Akira! Are you ready?” Futaba asked as she skipped over to the counter with a big smile, putting a stop at their conversation anyway.

He stared at her, puzzled. “For what exactly?”

Her eyes scanned him for a moment before a dejected look appeared on her face – in sync with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. “Ugh, you really didn’t pay attention when I talked to you yesterday, huh?”

Yes, this was exactly one of the reasons he had to pull himself together.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Eh, whatever. I was just talking to you about how there’s a new figurine at Akihabara that I wanted to get, and you agreed to come with me today, although now it’s clear you weren’t registering it.”

He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Sorry, Futaba. Ryuji invited me out today, but if you want, I can tell him to push it out a day.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll take Mona.”

“Me?” Morgana asked, blinking from the window sill.

“Would you rather spend the afternoon in the men’s changing room while Ryuji and I train?” He asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

Morgana visibly shuddered before jumping off and stopping firmly beside Futaba. “I go with her.”

He smiled around his cup while Futaba ceremoniously grabbed and placed Morgana on her shoulder. “Good kitty.”

*

“You miss it?” Akira asked as he began to unscrew the cap on his water bottle, giving Ryuji a look that was somewhere between curious and sympathetic.

They were sitting on the mats laid out on the gym floor, attempting to catch their breath. As it turned out they were _both_ rather out of practice.

“I mean, don’t you?” Ryuji rested the back of his head against the wall, sounding and looking all around helpless.

Akira took several sips of his water before answering. Of course he missed it. Entering the metaverse turned his life around, gave him the best friends he could’ve asked for, made him discover new things about himself and people in general, and truth to be told he was still coming to terms with all of it being over, too.

“Yeah,” he said in the end, mimicking Ryuji’s position without noticing.

“It’s not even just about not being able to kick some asses and feel the rush of adrenaline while going through Palaces, but… well, I don’t know, I miss all of it. It ain’t fair that we saved the world and we can’t keep helping.”

“Remember the glory of being unknown heroes,” Akira said with a smirk.

“I know, I know,” Ryuji sighed, kicking his legs in silent frustration. “I just miss Skull, man!”

“You _are_ still Skull,” he reassured, reaching out to keep his legs in place before he flew away or something. “Try to cope like I do; think about how wild it is that we got to experience it in the first place.”

Ryuji gave him a look that said he wasn’t entirely convinced, but then let out a long sigh anyway, giving in. “Yeah, I guess so… And of course I still think it was totally worth it –”

“Right, everything comes with a price, and being a hero means you put others first.”

“ _True_ ,” Ryuji nodded begrudgingly. “But I’m not any less of a hero if I just want to complain sometimes, right?”

Akira laughed a little as he attempted to get to his feet. “Right, of course.”

“Good, because I’m not regretting what we did for the greater good but it _does_ suck sometimes.”

He reached out his hand to help his best friend up. “Alright, you hero,” they shared a smile as Ryuji grabbed his hand. “Let’s take a shower and go home.”

The back of his head tingled almost immediately after they left the gym, and Akira tried his best to ignore it. He didn’t feel it earlier in the day, and almost started to believe that perhaps he _was_ honestly getting better, and he was just over-worrying. That it was really related to some sort of stress reaction.

Of course it couldn’t be that easy.

He walked alongside Ryuji and stopped with him at the intersection. He _knew_ that someone was watching him, he could _feel_ it, and he was _not_ imagining it. He subtly tried to glance to the side, but he didn’t see anyone familiar in the group of people around him. It was getting darker, the sky didn’t clear up all day and now it was nearing dusk, making it just a little more difficult to pick out certain faces in the back.

But he could still feel it. Maybe he was losing his mind, but Akira knew _he_ was there somewhere in some form, because in a lot of ways, the two of them were like magnets. They were supposed to be polar opposites, but instead they clicked, and perhaps it was the strange anomaly of each of them trying to push and pull at the same time, creating tension and tingling under his skin the same way it felt now. So maybe he wasn’t really there, but Akira could still sense a _presence_ , and he turned his head towards the point it felt the strongest.

He caught glimpse of a figure immediately turning away and moving through the crowd, and his heartrate picked up once again. He recalled what Takemi told him; don’t run, chase it, and see that it’s not real.

Akira went for it, pushing past people just as the lights turned green, and when the figure started to run, he picked up the pace aswell.

“Hey! Akira, wait!” Ryuji’s voice was drown out by the sound of his heart nearly exploding in his ears, and he just sprinted, chasing whoever or whatever tried to get away from him, right back to Central Street and through the smaller alleyways.

He got close enough to realize that the person had his hood up, and it registered in him that just maybe he had an actual stalker, and he was not crazy, nor he was seeing dead people. It would’ve been logical to feel fear, but he figured if someone was worried enough to run from him, they couldn’t have been that malicious – and if he did have someone following him around, he had to know who it was.

He didn’t waste his breath calling out for the stranger, instead he gritted his teeth and sped up even more, as much as he possibly could, getting closer and closer until he caught up enough to grab the back of his hoodie after a sharp right turn and yank him back, then push him right against the nearest wall.

And then Akira felt all the blood drain from not only his face but his whole body.

Under the dark hood, light brown hair was scattered messily around maroon red eyes.

“W… wh…,” he wanted to say so many things, but he couldn’t find his voice, and he couldn’t really breathe yet from running. Or shock. Or maybe from both.

Takemi said that illusions would disappear after confronting them. This one didn’t seem to want to go anywhere, though. Instead, he felt real, he looked real and breathless from running, too.

Akira pushed him back a little harder just to make sure, resulting in his illusion embodied to squeeze his eyes shut with a gasp like he was preparing to get punched in the face.

This was real. He was real – which was a little hard to believe, because everything was spinning.

Akira considered actually punching him, then. For making him believe he was dead, for letting him go through hell for months, for not coming forth to tell them that he was actually fucking _alive_ somehow this whole time.

On the other hand, seeing him being alive, right in front of him, actually anticipating a knockout as he didn’t even dare to open his eyes filled Akira with relief so overwhelming that all things considered he didn’t know whether he wanted to punch him or hug him more.

Akechi carefully opened one eye, then another when there didn’t seem to be any indication he’d actually get beat up, and their eyes locked for a solid moment.

“Akira…! Dude, I swear…,” Akira heard Ryuji approaching, sounding as out of breath as he felt, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Akechi, because what if he did end up disappearing, afterall? He knew his eyes were widened – he wasn’t even sure if he blinked since he caught him.

“I must’ve really gotten out of shape for you to get such a big advantage on –,” the words got caught on Ryuji’s throat, and he didn’t have to look at him to know he probably looked like he himself felt, but he did see him stumble back a little from the corner of his eye.

Well, that definitely proved he wasn’t hallucinating.

In the next moment, Ryuji said the exact words that were on his mind, too, except he sadly still couldn’t find his tongue.

“What… what the hell?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow. So that happened, whatever that means(?  
> ANYWAY-
> 
> I'm really pleasantly surprised by the feedback this fic is actually getting, and it means so much, especially as I find it difficult to write when I'm unsure about how my work is perceived. So thank you for everyone who left kudos or comments.  
> Things will really start to get into motion from this point forward, and I can't wait to share more with you all. Thank you for reading, and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Ps. i'm on tumblr @ akirenyan, in case anyone wants to cry over shuake with me there, too


	4. Chapter 4

Despite the many different words coming to his mind about the feeling that took over him; surprise, shock, stupor, disbelief – he couldn’t pinpoint out a single one that was good enough to express what he was truly going through.

Akechi Goro was alive, standing right in front of him; safe and alive and real in every sense.

… And it seemed like Akira was incapable of doing anything aside from staring at him intently, because despite the clear proof, he couldn’t _believe_ it.

“How… How is this –” Ryuji had trouble with his words, too, and was promptly interrupted when the gloomy weather that held out all day decided that now was the perfect time for the rain to start pouring down on them.

Akira wondered if a God was mocking him now, too – either way, he gave the weather an A+ for the dramatic effect.

The rain was a good thing, though; it helped him come back into reality, even if just a little more, as the cold droplets reached his skin, somewhat easing his shock induced vertigo.

“Ah, shit, man!” Ryuji whined next to him. “We should scram. I’ll help you grab him!”

“Huh?” He took his eyes off of Akechi for the first time since he caught him as he glanced at his friend with a frown.

“Well, we obviously should take him with us!” Ryuji stared at him like he was missing a very obvious point. Still, his friend couldn’t have blamed him, Akira was… dumbstruck. “I mean, dude, this is sketchy as hell! We have to, like… I don’t know, interrogate him.”

He glanced back at Akechi, who he still held pinned against the wall. He wasn’t looking back at him, nor did he say a word ever since he caught him, for that matter. Perhaps ‘interrogation’ was a bit much, but Akira did need answers. A lot of them.

The rain was starting to get worse.

_Fuck, fucking… hell._

“Alright…,” he managed to say, keeping his eyes on Akechi, even if he just kept on staring straight down. “Coming with us?”

Based on the inelegant sound Ryuji let out next to him, he was probably wondering why in the world he would even ask for Akechi’s permission on the matter. Akira ignored it though, because the truth was that only two minutes ago, he was sure the guy in front of him was dead; dead and forgotten, left behind, and he’d been blaming himself for the longest time for that. He was aware that no one else could really understand him in that regard. So whether it was wise to feel more relieved now compared to the anger he perhaps should’ve felt a bit more of, it didn’t matter. It didn’t, because he wasn’t relieved for the sake of his own conscience.

Akechi nodded once, wordlessly.

No, Akira was relieved because he was okay – and he simply would’ve preferred not to forcefully kidnap him first thing after a questionable reunion.

He slowly let go of Akechi, then nodded at Ryuji so the two of them could surround him and run for Shibuya station. In the rain, with it being pretty dark out, he didn’t think it was too out of place.

Akechi still didn’t talk or look at either of them during the subway ride. He had his hood covering most of his face, staring right down, a few drops of water falling from his bangs here and there as he was standing right between Ryuji and him.

 _Probably the last place he wants to be_ , Akira thought to himself.

He did entertain the thought that perhaps the main reason behind his behavior was simply that Akechi was trying to hide from people; after all, as far as the public was concerned, Akechi Goro had gone missing 9 months ago. It was only them who knew he was dead. Well. Until now.

Ryuji tried to voicelessly communicate with him through various facial expressions a few times through the ride, but all he could do was shrug in response every time. He was baffled – still not quite grasping that any of this was seriously happening.

Once the doors on the subway opened, they disappeared from the other people’s sight as fast as they possibly could, careful not to raise any suspicion in the process.

While they were making their way through the small Yongen streets in the rain, a shiver ran down Akira’s spine, and not from the sudden cold; he was right, he knew he wasn’t crazy. He’d actually been feeling his presence, following him in the previous days.

He was walking, but he didn’t comprehend how his legs kept carrying him, because frankly even his body didn’t feel like his own. Maybe that’s why he jumped a little as Ryuji grabbed his arm once they got to Leblanc.

“Dude wait, does Futaba still have the place bugged?”

He blinked, taking a moment for the question to register. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Are you _sure_?” Ryuji gave him a meaningful look before nodding towards their newfound hostage. “We wouldn’t want to alert everyone before we… deal with this situation.”

That sounded vaguely like they were in the very least planning murder, and Akira raised a humored brow. He figured Akechi had the same thought, because he gave in and stared at Ryuji with an overall unreadable expression, which could’ve equally meant slight worry or unperturbed amusement. He was hard to read sometimes.

“I am almost completely sure, but if I’m wrong, well… we are just going to have to risk it,” he announced as he grabbed his keys, feeling quite proud of himself for being able to form a full sentence that was longer than three words, especially considering his current state. Either way, he was not about to spend any more time outside in the rain unless it was necessary, let alone under the given circumstances.

The café was already dark, suggesting that Sojiro closed shop earlier than usual. He took his glasses off to free the lenses of water drops, cleaning them with the hem of his shirt. As Ryuji flicked on the lights, he spotted a piece of paper on the counter with a pencil placed on top of it. He pushed his glasses back on with a single finger, then picked it up, knowing already that it was a note from Sojiro.

_Akira,_

_I closed early because Futaba came back with the cat and they both demanded some dinner. We headed back to the house as there weren’t many customers today. If you want, you can join us._

_Boss_

He sighed, knowing that there was no way he could join in the family fun now; not that his head could even be there considering what happened, so he didn’t especially mind.

As he placed the note down, his eyes wandered back to the person who caused his mind to entirely disintegrate. Akechi was scanning the café with an almost wishful gaze, and something in that gesture somehow got to Akira. He wondered if Akechi missed it.

“There, sit!” Ryuji’s voice snapped them both out of their reverie.

He sighed, watching as Akechi reluctantly sat down to the booth seat nearest to the door, the hood conveniently falling into his face again. Ryuji definitely intended to go for a full-on interrogation, so he walked next to him, just to make sure that things didn’t get out of hand.

He himself still couldn’t quite come up with a solid plan, so for now he just hoped Ryuji had one that didn’t actually involve a criminal offense. This whole situation was near impossible for him to process – which was a big deal, because he saw and went through _a lot_ of things that should’ve been impossible. And yet…

“Hey, wait! Wouldn’t we need a –” his friend cut himself off, ignoring the puzzled look on his face as he walked past him to lean over and reach down behind the counter for something. “Aha!”

In the next moment, Ryuji emerged victoriously with a pan in his hand, and Akira just sort of raised his eyes towards the heavens.

“Ryuji…”

“Yeah?” He asked as he walked back to him.

Akira merely gave him a subtle shake of the head. “Please.”

“What?! Just in case!”

Akira gave up in that exact moment, turning his attention back to their not-so-hostage. Akechi was sitting in front of them, his eyes darting between Ryuji and him. His expression was impossible to read once again, and Akira didn’t have anything fitting to say. He had no idea how to start, or what to ask first.

“Start talking!” Ryuji clearly didn’t have that problem, though. But well, at least he didn’t hold the pan above his head in a threatening manner while questioning him, so Akira supposed it could’ve been worse. “How is this possible? How are you alive, and why were you hiding? Spill it!”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” was all that Akechi said, quietly, looking back down again. It was a good sign that he talked, although hearing his voice sent Akira straight into another spiral. He wondered if he’d ever see the end of them.

“Yeah, no shit!” Ryuji exclaimed, rather hysterically, until Akira’s phone interrupted him with a loud chime, making the both of them jump a little.

A clear sign that they were very clearly still in shock.

“Who is it?!”

“It’s, uh…,” Akira’s eyes quickly scanned the text message. “Makoto.”

Ryuji looked entirely panicked, as if maybe Makoto could sense what they were up to. “What does she want?”

“To meet tomorrow. I’ll text her later,” as he pocketed his phone, he caught a glimpse of a curious glance from Akechi – immediately tearing his eyes away upon being noticed. He raised a brow.

“Maybe you should text them all,” his friend offered.

“What?” He turned to him, his brain still feeling akin to a wet sponge.

“About this whole situation,” Ryuji flung his arm – which was holding the pan – towards Akechi mindlessly, who leaned back skillfully to avoid any sort of impact.

“Right, I will, I just… I need more time to think,” that was truth in its fullest form. He had no idea how to tell them, because he still needed several moments to come to terms with it himself. In a certain way, he was still supposed to be a leader, and first and foremost, before any rash decision, well… he needed a plan which he currently didn’t have.

“You should text Futaba, though,” he said then, glancing at Ryuji.

“Why me?”

“Because it’s about keeping Morgana there while I keep thinking, and if I text her, he will want to see what I wrote, but if it’s you, well –”

“Right, of course, that is just… lovely,” Ryuji mumbled under his breath, but all while taking his phone out to text Futaba anyway.

“A’ight,” his friend’s attention was back on Akechi as soon as he hit send. “Now tell us what we want to know.”

This time, Akechi remained silent, staring down at his hands and avoiding their eyes like before. He didn’t seem like he had any intention to actually answer anything whatsoever.

He shared a glance with Ryuji, who looked like he was balancing right between frustration and resignation. “Man, this is effing crazy…”

“Akechi?” He tried, noting the way he tensed up a little in response. He looked at him for a brief moment, but then his eyes let go of his just as soon, falling back down to his lap. Akira frowned, and watched as he shivered briefly.

“Look, you don’t get to show up and decide not to answer our questions! You realize we could get you in a shitton of trouble if you didn’t want to cooperate –”

“Ryuji…”

“Dude, I know, but we can at least freak him out!”

“No, I mean… I think I know what we should do,” he sighed, nodding towards his room upstairs. “I give him some dry clothes, then try and talk to him alone.”

“Akira, I don’t think –”

“Just trust me,” he watched as Ryuji sighed, giving in, because of course he did trust him. There was hardly anything he could’ve said for his best friend to believe he couldn’t work it out if he saw that option as the correct one. “Come on.”

As the three of them headed upstairs, Ryuji’s phone went off, signaling a text from Futaba. “Alright, she says the deed is done but you owe her ten boxes of instant yakisoba.”

He smiled to himself as he went straight for the box that kept his clothes. “I’ll be sure to add it to the list.”

Once he picked out some reasonable pieces of clothing, he walked back to where Akechi seated himself on his sofa, with Ryuji standing in front of him – not easing his stance even for a second. But in the very least he ditched the pan on their way up.

“Aren’t you going to get changed, too?” Ryuji asked after he glanced at the clothes in his hand.

“I’m fine,” he shook his head, in which the gears finally began to roll once again, and thankfully enough for a plan to start forming inside it. “I’m giving him these because he is going to spend the night here.”

At that, both Akechi and Ryuji’s head turned back to him, nonplussed.

“What?!” His friend blinked rapidly, with an expression that told Akira he hoped he was joking.

“That way, he doesn’t disappear again. Or at least not until tomorrow, when… I call everyone together,” he explained. “They have to know, too. But I want to talk to him before we do that. And I think I have a better chance if I do that myself.”

Ryuji stared at him, uncomprehending.

“Alone,” he clarified with a meaningful look.

“Akira, that’s… I mean, _are you sure_? What if he, like… ” Ryuji leaned closer to him, voice barely above a whisper. “Tries to kill you in your sleep?”

Before he could’ve said anything in response, he heard Akechi let out an inelegant snort. “You know, I’m actually starting to get the urge to kill someone, Sakamoto.”

The two of them exchanged a rather unpleasant look to say the least before Akira patted Ryuji on the shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, he tried it twice and failed, if he succeeded now then I’d deserve it,” he was using humor to ease Ryuji’s worries, but he didn’t look at Akechi to try and see what kind of reaction that might’ve produced on that end.

It at least seemed to work on Ryuji. “Fine, it’s just… this is so not what I had in mind for tonight,” he sighed helplessly.

Well, Akira understood him in that regard. Babysitting Akechi who he assumed was dead and playing good cop-bad cop with Ryuji was definitely not anything like he would’ve predicted for this night to go.

“I know,” Akira nodded before turning back to Akechi and handing him the clothes. “You can change while I go and walk him out.”

Akechi took them without a word.

As he walked downstairs with Ryuji, he wondered if his plan would actually work out and if he _could_ get Akechi to talk to him. He hoped he could manage, although somehow the idea still attempted to make his mind spin out of its axis.

“If you need anything man, or anything happens, call me right away!” Ryuji cited as he was on his way out.

“Will do. Don’t worry,” he said it confidently enough despite the worry he himself felt. Then again, he supposed _his_ worry was entirely different in nature.

Once Ryuji headed out and as a consequence left him alone with his thoughts and the ghost of his past upstairs, Akira started to question the plan he was so sure of just a minute ago. He purposefully stalled, wishing for a guidance of his own once again.

Maybe it would’ve helped if the shock dispersed by now, if he was capable to fully grasp the fact that Akechi was back in his life, right upstairs, in his room, waiting for him… alive. He leaned against the counter to take a moment for himself; to just bury his face in his hands and take a few big breaths.

_In and out. Easy._

With a long exhale, he opened his eyes and shook his head. He had to do this. The nervous breakdown could come later.

Every step Akira took on the stairs felt like he was walking on a combination of nails and air; he was taking his time because part of him dreaded whatever there was to come, while the other wanted to take two steps at a time and just look at him to make sure this was reality.

As he reached the top of the stairs though, the whole thing lost its significance.

Akechi was sitting on the sofa in the change of clothes he gave him; comfortable loungewear, gray pants and a size too big black sweater because sometimes Akira liked being comfortable. He stared straight ahead, his hair is free from the hood, now only that serving as means to cover his expression. He looked rather miserable, like a sad ball of void darkness that ironically enough kept haunting Akira for several months now. But it was real… this was no dream, or a wish, it was reality. _He_ was there, and looking at him now after everything that happened, Akira found himself grateful.

He grabbed the chair from near the window and placed it directly in front of the sofa, seating himself the opposite of Akechi. In theory, he was conscious of the things he wanted to say and ask, but once again he had a difficult time trying to actually voice them.

What was he supposed to start with? How was he even supposed to talk to him after everything since –

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Akechi’s voice caught him off guard, and the déjà vu that came with it hit hard enough to nearly give him a severe case of mental concussion. He didn’t realize that Akechi was eyeing him with a little frown, and wondered if he blanked longer than he thought he did.

He didn’t want to show it though, and bounced right back. “It’s just that I’m having kind of a hard time talking to someone who I thought was dead. But you have experience in that field, so why don’t you enlighten me?”

Akechi flashed him an inscrutable glance. “Well, maybe I just gave it back.”

He squinted his eyes at him, but without any negative intent. To his surprise though, Akechi sighed and stared back down at his own hands. “That was out of line. Sorry.”

It wasn’t really, considering that Akira started it. He only shook his head, and leaned back in his chair. “Just give me the answers we need.”

He kept his tone calm. Careful, even. He was rather proud of himself for being able to do that at all. Even so, Akechi didn’t say anything in return. Akira frowned.

“You do know that you have to talk to me, right?” He tried again, tone just as calm.

Akira followed Akechi’s eyes, settling on his lap; he pulled the sleeves down a little more, until they almost completely covered his hands as he was fiddling with them. Yes, it was clear that not wanting to talk to him wasn’t the issue, especially since Ryuji was gone. Akira had the suspicion even then that Akechi trusted him more.

Well… ‘trust’ might’ve been pushing it, but he knew he was more _willing_ to talk to him, which was partly why he decided to do it alone. But it was clear that his reluctance to talk now rooted elsewhere. He seemed… nervous.

“You weren’t supposed to find me,” he whispered in the end.

“Yeah, well. You did a horrible job at being stealthy. I could feel you watching me every time,” he stated, just to rub it in a little. Akechi gave him a really hard time these past days. “Thought I was losing my mind.”

More silence. He didn’t look up from his hands either, so Akira had no idea what could’ve been going through his mind.

“Why didn’t you tell us? That you… survived?” He asked in the end, giving in. He only hoped Akechi would actually answer him this time, because he desperately needed an answer.

“Frankly, Kurusu…,” Akechi began quietly, looking up to meet his eyes. “I didn’t think either of you would’ve cared.”

He did wish for an answer, but now he wondered if it would’ve been better not to know. He knew Akechi’s tricks, how easily he could manipulate and trick others, but right now, he seemed defenseless. He seemed like someone who already lost and there was no point to keep going on with the game he started playing. Even his eyes seemed genuine as he continued to talk, looking at him but without truly seeing; like he was somewhere else entirely.

“After everything, it just seemed logical,” he shrugged his shoulders a little. “I tried to kill you, and so I thought ‘why would either of them care about what happened to me?’ I didn’t think I’d be missed. By anyone, really, let alone by you.”

Akira started to feel sick. He could tell that Akechi was being honest, that he honestly _believed_ that, and that was probably the worst part.

“So when you said –,” Akechi cut himself off so abruptly that perhaps that was the real reason why Akira even noticed it happened, as he was still trying to come to terms with what his words implied. But Akechi’s eyes widened in panic, like he just let something slide that he didn’t intend to, and that’s when it clicked.

Akira sucked in a breath, recognition striking him right in the head because _of course_.

“It was you,” he muttered, taken aback. “I didn’t dream you up, it _was_ you.”

Akechi averting his eyes and refusing to say anything was as good of a confirmation as any. Akira leaned forward, shaking his head.

“You _have_ to talk to me. How did you even… do that?”

He recalled the times he wished the person in his dreams was somehow the real Akechi. His ghost, a spirit, whatever – rather than just a figment of his imagination. But now that he knew it was really him, while he was alive, that… that was something else entirely.

“I’m not sure how or why it’s possible,” Akechi’s voice remained quiet. “The first time it happened, I was just...,” he let out a brief sigh, seemingly forcing himself to talk. “I was on a very low point, and wished I could talk to you, ironically enough. Then it just seemed like we connected, because there you were. I had no idea how I did it… I was even afraid to try and repeat it for a while, but after a few tries, it happened again.”

Akira stared at him intently as he spoke, watching as he pulled the sleeves of his borrowed shirt down even more, as if he was trying to hide in them entirely. He could tell that it was difficult for him to talk about any of this – or maybe to talk to him at all.

“I eventually realized that it’s almost like… a channel. That I can reach you through it, talk to you if I concentrate hard enough. I don’t even necessarily have to be asleep to do it, as long as you are. I really have no idea what makes it possible, but I think you might be able to do it too.”

There was silence for a moment while Akira tried to at least attempt to process this information. It didn’t exactly work out, so for the time being he decided to place it in an imaginary box – something to get back to later. For now, he had other questions too.

“How did you escape?”

“I could get out in the last minute with the help of my persona. Apparently I had an item left on me. I was risking it… but it worked.”

 _That’s why Futaba lost his signal_ , Akira thought with a sigh while leaning forward a little in his seat again.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“In hiding,” Akechi said with a self-evident glance, although his voice sounded somewhat remorseful too. “At first, I focused on getting away from everything associated with Akechi Goro, and just tried my best to lay low. I knew that you would keep your promise, and me, I… I figured it was better for everyone if I just disappeared.”

Akira fought the urge to yell at him about how wrong he was, but perhaps only because he still found it difficult to come to terms with… any of this, actually.

“In the beginning, I didn’t even know that you got taken into custody,” Akechi confessed, looking somewhere at the side and avoiding his eyes once again. “When I found out, I wanted to come forth, but then… the truth is that…,” Akechi bit down on his lower lip hard enough that Akira was concerned he’d make himself bleed.

Akechi looked him in the eye then, expression equally as determined as ashamed. “The truth is that I was a coward, and felt more afraid of showing myself in front of you than coming forward and trying to actually help,” those words had weight, and Akira was almost painfully aware of them. He stared at him, stunned, watching as Akechi resignedly bowed his head. “I’m sorry about that.”

Akira continued staring with wide eyes, his mouth slightly hanging open as his brain attempted to catch up desperately because frankly this started to feel more and more like a dream. This was not anything he could’ve predicted Akechi to say to him. None of this, ever.

He hesitated for that exact reason. Could he believe him? His head was rather divided, because despite his better judgement, Akira kept feeling like he was being honest. It showed that it took Akechi tremendous effort to actually say the words that caused him to stare at him incredulously, and if Akira wanted to be honest, he knew that something changed when Akechi decided to risk dying for them all those months back. He wasn’t sure what exactly, but Akechi didn’t seem the same in the final moments he saw and talked to him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he had a last minute change of heart – but he knew it wasn’t that simple, it couldn’t be.

Regardless, whether Akechi was being completely genuine or not, it didn’t change one thing; his relief. To see him alive, being relatively okay, breathing and _existing_. All those months, spent in silent grief and excruciating self-blaming, feeling thrown off balance and _lacking_ , empty… he was so damn happy to see him _live_ , regardless of Akechi’s true intentions.

That’s why he reached forward and grabbed his shoulders – resulting in Akechi lifting his head and blinking at him, confused. He considered punching slash hugging him again then. Just for a moment.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said instead, looking at him meaningfully so Akechi would _definitely_ understand that he was being honest. “And I meant everything I said in those dreams, you know,” he added, because once his private thoughts had been invaded in such a way, he might aswell live up to it to keep some of his control over them. The dark eyes that always seemed maroon up close opened wider, seemingly unfocused.

It looked like Akechi wanted to say something in response, but no words actually left his mouth. Instead, Akira let go and stood with a sigh. “I suppose that’s enough interrogation for one night,” he grabbed Akechi’s wet clothes and placed them over the railing on the stairs so they would dry up for the morning.

“You can take the bed, if you want,” he offered, because he wasn’t an asshole.

He watched as he shook his head. “No, I’m fine here.”

“You sure?” When Akechi just nodded ahead in response, he shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Akira grabbed a blanket and handed it to him before taking a seat on his bed. He reached for his phone again, already seeing a message from Ryuji.

 **Ryuji:** Are you still alive?

He merely sent back a thumbs up emoji with a brief roll of his eyes.

“Are you going to tell them?” Akechi asked in a small voice.

He glanced at him, sitting on the sofa with his legs pulled up and completely covered in the blanket. Only his head was visible, but his eyes were still cast down. He really had a hard time looking at him, but Akira couldn’t blame him in that regard. He found it rather difficult, too.

“I will have to. I’ll try to get them here tomorrow morning. That okay?”

It wasn’t really a question, because regardless of his answer, he knew he didn’t exactly have a choice. Akechi knew that, too. Despite that, he nodded slowly anyway.

“Yes.”

*

Akira couldn’t fall asleep. It was just not happening, no matter how much he tried to turn his mind off and slip into unconsciousness. He picked up his phone, the screen’s light making him squint and blink for a few seconds. He instinctively reached for his glasses, not like they made any difference; it was half past two in the morning.

It’s been several hours since he found Akechi, and although the shock did subside to a considerable extent, the reality of it didn’t quite sink in. He texted the group before he headed to bed with an SOS about needing to meet the first thing in the morning, and thankfully everyone confirmed they’d be there. He didn’t have a plan, though. He had no idea how he was going to go about telling them, but he figured he’d worry about it later, and if nothing else, well… he’ll just try and swing it.

He also spent a great amount of time trying to dissect the thing about those weird dreams, how Akechi described it as a channel, and how he believed he was capable of doing the same. God, Akira wasn’t even sure he wanted to know what it might mean, let around try it. His thoughts were jumbled… no wonder he couldn’t sleep.

He reluctantly glanced to the sofa, where the true reason behind his restlessness laid; he couldn’t exactly see him under the cover, he only saw the steadily raising and shrinking motion of the blanket on Akechi while he was laying there. In his room. Breathing. Alive.

Akira sat up with a hurried motion, yanking the blanket off of himself because he was losing his mind. He carefully tiptoed across the room and headed downstairs, in desperate need for some coffee; he was not going to get any sleep for a good while anyway.

Once he reached the last step, he made a bee line straight for the coffee maker, briefly wondering if he should maybe spice it up with some alcohol. In his current state, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After the machine was on, he stumbled towards the lights to flick them on, covering a yawn with his other hand. So perhaps his body wished for sleep after the shock of the whole day, but tough luck; his brain was not having it.

Just as he was pouring the freshly made coffee into a mug, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and stopped himself last minute from potentially spilling it everywhere. Akechi approached the counter hesitantly.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He was mentally ready to curse himself for turning all the lights on. Maybe he should’ve gone for only the one in the kitchen. Maybe –

“No, I couldn’t really sleep,” Akechi interrupted his thoughts as he took a seat in front of him, with a raise of a single brow, as if to ask if it was okay for him to join him. He nodded briefly, to express it was fine. “And you?”

“Couldn’t either.”

Akechi seemed bothered by something for a moment, then tilted his head to the side a little. “You’re not avoiding going to sleep because of what Sakamoto said, right?”

It took a moment for Akira to register what he was referring to – and when it did, he shook his head with a brief smile that he was unable to hide. The idea of that remark actually getting to Akechi and _worrying_ him humored him a little. “Of course not.”

“Good,” it seemed like he wanted to say more, but his eyes fell to the cup inbetween them and he frowned. “Are you going to drink coffee right now?”

Akira raised a brow at him. “Yes. I can’t sleep, so –”

“Because of me,” it was not a question, but a statement.

“Well, yes but –”

“I don’t want to cause an inconvenience. And you shouldn’t drink coffee at two in the morning.”

Akira stared at him, slightly stunned but also amused from being straight-up lectured about his unhealthy coffee habits, and by none other than Akechi.

He shrugged, reaching for his cup anyway. “Well, too bad.”

Before he had a chance to grab it, Akechi pulled it towards him and lifted it up to take a sip. Akira stared, fascinated by the triumphant smile on Akechi’s lips after he placed the cup back down, surely thinking that by drinking from it, he stopped him from getting his coffee. But in reality Akira was merely grateful he didn’t put any alcohol in it in the end.

Even so, he was not about to leave it at that. He reached for the cup again, deliberately making a point of turning it, therefore drinking from the same exact spot he drank from, keeping eye contact as Akechi’s eyes widened in surprise. Akira maintained the unconcerned, casual expression as he placed the cup down, adding a little edge by letting out a long sigh of satisfaction in the end.

Akechi glanced away, clearly embarrassed as he mumbled to himself; “How vulgar.”

He smirked just a little, feeling pretty proud of himself for winning this round. Akechi was ought to know that there was hardly anything that had the potential of coming between him and his coffee. Akechi’s mouth being one of those things, apparently.

“Want me to make one for you too, or would you rather keep sharing this one?” He asked, pushing it just a bit more, because mortification looked great on Akechi.

“I-I will have my own one,” he spluttered before sitting up straight and clearing his throat. “Please.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling again as he grabbed another cup and began to make some for Akechi too. For a moment, he forgot; about the shock earlier, about him being back, very much not dead, and the situation between them. Akira sneaked a glance at him, just in time to catch him mindlessly bring the sleeve of his sweater up to his face; Akira’s first thought was that this was another way of him trying to hide from this situation, but if he didn’t know any better… he’d consider that he was trying to breathe in the scent. He raised a single brow before tearing his eyes away and making a mental note on it. Akechi didn’t notice he was caught, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He placed the new cup in front of him a moment later; he watched as Akechi’s thin fingers curled around the cup, more to keep them warm than actually lifting it up to drink. Perhaps he was still cold. Akira hoped he didn’t find him alive only to later have him die of hypothermia because they just had to kidnap him in pouring rain.

“I missed this place,” he mused, and Akira’s eyes traveled up to his face from his fingers to see that wishful expression again as his eyes scanned something behind him. Perhaps the shelves with the coffee beans. So Akira guessed right before, he did miss it. He supposed that made sense; he remembered Akechi telling him quite a few times in the past that this place was the only one he was truly able to relax. Considering everything that was going on with him around that time, he wasn’t surprised.

“You can come back anytime now,” he offered, resting his chin on his palm as he leaned on the counter a little.

Akechi looked surprised for a moment, no doubt wondering why Akira would even suggest such a thing after everything that happened. He shook his head. “I appreciate the gesture, but surely that won’t happen. Now that you do know I am alive, there is no real reason left for me not to give myself up with the police.”

That definitely was a turn Akira didn’t quite foresee.

“I’m sure your friends will all agree, too.”

“We’ll talk about that in the morning,” he stated with a brief shake of the head. That idea altogether didn’t appeal to him the slightest, but he didn’t want to think about the reason behind it. “For now just drink your coffee.”

Akechi seemingly gave in as he raised the cup to his lips, fully intending to hide what seemed akin to the briefest of smiles. Akira watched him as he took another sip of his own, recognizing the exact moment Akechi realized that his was different. He made the blend he liked the most, the one he always ordered when he used to visit.

Akechi slowly placed the cup down, looking at him with a stupefied expression. “You remembered?”

He merely tilted his head with a small shrug. “I pay attention.”

It was also because he occasionally made that specific blend for himself too after he thought Akechi died – a foolish way to somehow feel close to him again. But he was not about to get into that.

It was the longest time they maintained the eye contact, seemingly frozen in time for a few moments as Akechi considered what he told him. It was surprisingly warm, with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and only the faint sound of rain coming from outside. After another moment or so, Akechi turned to stare right down at the coffee in front of him. “Thanks.”

He shook his head as a wordless response, picking up a spoon and lazily twirling it in his drink. There was silence after that, each of them lost in thought, but it was not in any way uncomfortable. They remained like that too, until they both finished their coffee, and wordlessly agreed to head back upstairs and at least attempt to get some rest.

* 

Akira did manage to fall asleep near the morning, although not for long. Despite the coffee and the adrenaline, the initial shock and still looming disbelief did enough to tire him out. By the time he came to, Akechi was already up – though truth to be told, he wasn’t sure if he slept at all –, dressed back in his attire from yesterday, wearing the dark pants and hoodie. It was definitely not the style he was used to from him; rather than the always pristine honor student, he looked like some sort of hooligan. Probably what he was trying to go for to blend in, although it didn’t look _bad_. Besides, Akira honestly doubted a guy like him could ever successfully blend with any crowd ever, regardless of the outfit. The loungewear Akira gave him were placed on the seat next to him, neatly folded up.

“Good morning,” Akechi said quietly, fidgeting in his seat.

 _Well, he didn’t sneak out during the night, that’s something_ , Akira thought as he stretched like a cat after sitting up. He felt Akechi’s eyes on him, and took a moment to take in the absurdity of the situation. Waking up with him in his room, greeting him in the morning…

_God, this is different._

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, voice still raspy. He probably only slept about three hours, if that.

“Hey, kid!” Sojiro’s voice from downstairs sent a chill down his spine – right, Sojiro also didn’t know about the whole deal with Akechi. “Your friends are here! Hurry down!”

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, checking his phone. It was past eight. The urgent morning meeting was ready to assemble. “I’ll be down a minute!” He said a little louder, jumping out of bed and grabbing some clothes.

Akechi courteously walked up to the windows and turned his back to him while he changed to give him some privacy, which Akira didn’t even consider as a big deal initially, but figured it was polite enough.

Once he got ready, Akechi turned as he heard him take a few steps towards him, eyes showing signs of panic that he couldn’t quite disguise. It was odd, to think that he would be wary of his friends now.

“It’s going to be fine,” Akira said, though without much conviction. He still didn’t have a plan, afterall. “Just… stay up here.”

Akechi only nodded – unsure, but devoid of any other choice.

He walked down the stairs, trying to seem as casual as ever despite the worry clouding his mind. He greeted Sojiro and glanced at the table where his friends waved at him enthusiastically, and something twisted inside him. It was still so great to see them all together, to be able to spend time together again, but damn it… they had no idea.

Only Ryuji seemed a little restless as he sat down with them, the inability to blurt out that Akechi is alive and right here probably taking a real toll on him. He gave him a concerned glance, but seemed to relax somewhat when Akira gave him a nod.

Morgana was curled up in Futaba’s lap, watching him intently – he probably had his own questions, but Akira was glad that Ann seemed to derail him from them as she leaned across the table eagerly. “So what is it that you wanted to discuss?”

“Everything all right?” Makoto sounded concerned next to him.

He sighed, trying his best not to let his uncertainty show. “There’s just something I have to tell you all. But first… you need to promise me that you would try and stay calm.”

Yusuke raised a brow, but nodded solemnly just as Haru gently patted his arm in support.

Morgana jumped onto the table, giving him a look that was the opposite of calm. “What happened, Akira?”

“You might wanna keep sittin’ for that,” Ryuji mumbled, resulting in Ann looking a bit more perturbed too.

“Boys?” Futaba prompted as she gave them both a worried look.

So after a long exhale, Akira started to talk. He told them about the dreams he had – although he painted them as simple ones, just for the sake of mentioning the regret he felt because he couldn’t save him. It was an important detail that he purposely tried to add for the sake of the success of his plans. To that, most of them started talking and disagreeing at once, but it was forgotten as soon as he told them about the feeling of being watched since he got back, and he actually caught the person last night with Ryuji.

Ann gasped loudly. “Wait, what?”

“Who was it? Don’t tell me –” Haru had her hand in front of her mouth, eyes wide with distress.

“Did you two get hurt?” Was all that came from Yusuke.

“Nah, but you won’t believe –,” Ryuji started, until Akira raised a hand to silence him. “Uh, sorry man.”

“I’d rather you came upstairs with me and saw for yourselves… I didn’t tell Sojiro yet,” he admitted in a hushed tone.

The group nodded in agreement, standing up and telling Sojiro they will hang out upstairs. Akira’s heart somehow moved up into his throat as they were making their way up, turning back before reaching his attic room so abruptly the others nearly collided with him.

“Just… try and stay calm,” he reminded. He remembered how long it took for him to get through the shock… in all honesty, perhaps he was still going through it.

The precaution and warning was out the window the moment the others froze in place upon reaching the room, with Akechi turning to face all of them.

The brief but heavy silence was broken by Ann’s high-pitched tone. “Akechi-kun?!”

Ryuji nudged her in the side with a hiss. “Wha-! You moron!”

Ann ducked her head while he and Ryuji glanced down the stairs, hoping that no one heard that – especially Sojiro. The others were still unmoving, staring at Akechi in shock. Yes, Akira knew exactly what that felt like.

“But… but how?” Makoto asked incredulously.

“Oh my,” Haru’s voice cracked just enough for Akira to begin to lead them all further inside.

“Let’s just all sit,” he said quietly, appreciating Ryuji and Yusuke who – despite the latter’s obvious confusion – led the girls to the sofa and chairs.

Morgana positioned himself between Futaba and Haru, radiating the aura of some sort of judge as he gave Akechi a stern look. Akira could hear him clear his throat then – so it probably worked, at least to an extent. Or Akechi was just greatly uncomfortable. Probably the latter.

“So what exactly is this supposed to mean?” He asked then, keeping his eyes on him. Akira knew Morgana didn’t intend to seem hostile, though; it was more about worrying for the rest of them, especially the girls next to him.

“You were the one following Akira. He thought he was hallucinating,” Futaba was clearly thrown out of the loop pretty drastically too, and therefore just shifted into defend-Akira mode.

“Guys –” he began, but Makoto took over with a calm tone, which was honestly rather impressive considering everything.

“Maybe we should let him talk first,” she offered, for which Akira sent her a grateful glance.

“I… I am aware that this must be a shock to you all,” Akechi spoke as he tentatively walked closer, Akira giving him a quick nod as a way to try and reassure him into continuing.

Surprisingly, it seemed to get the job done. Akechi told the group about the gist of the same things he revealed to him the previous night, with everyone listening stunned into a deep silence. Akira watched out for all of their reactions; Ryuji tapping his foot with nervous energy while leaning against the sofa, Ann staring at Akechi with wide eyes as if she was watching a show on TV, Makoto buried in thoughts with a frown and Haru casting her eyes on her lap more often than not. Yusuke seemed calm as ever, but the lines near his eyes told Akira he was actually putting great effort into remaining that way, while Futaba just pulled her legs up and half-chewed on her nail. Morgana caught his eyes. Akira took the opportunity to turn his attention back to the center of everyone’s.

“… and so, naturally, I am willing to give myself up at the police,” that particular finishing line made something twist and turn in his stomach, like the previous night.

“Which is damn well what you should do,” Ryuji nodded, seemingly thinking of it entirely differently. Akira sighed, because that wasn’t at all surprising.

“I’d like to know what Akira thinks,” Morgana’s comment surprised him, wondering if he caught onto something.

He took a moment as he felt everyone’s eyes on him. He was still their leader, he was aware that although they were always unanimous, his word mattered just a little more. “I’m not particularly for that idea.”

He saw Akechi from the corner of his vision, looking at him in definite confusion. He exhaled slowly as he ran a hand through his hair. “I just want to leave that whole ordeal behind. Shido got his punishment, which was what we were truly fighting for. I served for that purpose willingly, too.”

He really didn’t want to overturn the whole thing again; Shido took responsibility, and the media calmed down. The biggest culprit behind it all was behind bars. On the other hand, he felt his stomach twist once more, because although that was all true, he knew that his real reasons were just slightly more selfish.

“So are we going to just simply overlook it?” Makoto asked, folding her arms on her chest a little assertively, although her tone remained collected.

“No,” Akira shook his head. “I want to try and give him a second chance. A probation between us, if you will. And if he tries anything, then… I promise I will take him to the police myself.”

He turned to look at Akechi as he finished talking, meeting with an expression that looked borderline aghast. He was no doubt thinking that he lost his mind. Well, perhaps.

“I mean…,” Ann began, twirling some of her hair around her finger mindlessly. “Akechi-kun is offering going to the police himself, which means he _would_ like to atone. Besides, he did risk sacrificing himself for all of us. And not going to lie, I’m glad he’s, well… not dead.”

Akira never loved her quite as much as he did in this moment. Makoto’s expression softened just a little.

“I have to agree,” Morgana nodded perhaps just a little begrudgingly. “We all established it before that Akechi was not the root of the problem. That’s not to say this means all is forgiven, but Akira has a point.”

Yusuke hummed, sending him a meaningful look. “I find that offer quite reasonable myself.”

Akira held his glance, nodding subtly. Especially after their talk the other day, he had no doubt that Yusuke knew why this meant a lot to him.

“I believe in your conviction of always trying to make the best decisions,” Haru’s voice was as gentle as ever. “I stand by what I said that day on the ship. I don’t have objections about giving him a chance, though.”

Haru had always been too warm-hearted for her own good, but Akira really appreciated it at times like these. He remembered her words from that day too, of course. About not quite being able to forgive, but feeling sympathy. He remembered all of them offering him to come with them instead. He already knew there would be no real objections, because they knew; they were all familiar in part with what he’d been going through, and regardless of everything, they felt for him in the end.

“And this is important to you, right, Akira?” Futaba asked, and although being singled out in such a way was slightly jarring, he nodded slowly.

“I still want this to be a decision we make together. If anyone feels uncomfortable, it won’t happen.”

“Yes, well that’s only natural,” Morgana nodded in agreement.

“Shit, man…,” Ryuji huffed, chewing at his bottom lip for a moment as the motion in which he kept tapping his right leg increased considerably. “Fine, we give this a try. But the moment he does _anything_ shady –”

“It’s over right away,” he confirmed, meaning that completely.

“Alright then, Akechi-kun,” Makoto turned her attention back to the guy in question. “We’re willing to try this in return for what you did for us on the ship. What do you think?”

Akira glanced back at him, seeing that Akechi still looked like the human equivalent of incomprehension. “I don’t… I really don’t understand any of you.”

“He’s fine,” Akira concluded as he turned back to the rest of them, ignoring anything else Akechi might’ve intended to add.

Makoto closed her eyes briefly before standing up with a sigh. “Now that we’ve discussed this, I have something to take care of. Keep in touch, in case anything happens?”

Akira nodded, watching as they all started to move. “Be careful,” she whispered to him once more before going on ahead.

Yusuke placed his hand on his shoulder in a supportive manner with a small smile before walking off with Haru and Ann – who, and Akira really _really_ loved her – waved in their direction. “See you later. Bye, Akechi-kun!”

Futaba’s glance was somewhat wary, but she tilted her head at Akira nonetheless. “I’ll distract Sojiro downstairs in case you want to see him out without being noticed.”

“Thanks,” he smiled a little, feeling more than thankful. For all of them, beyond words.

“Come on, Mona,” she called back before making her way downstairs, with Morgana tailing her.

It was only Ryuji remaining in the room, glancing nervously between the two of them; clearly, it was still rather difficult for him to leave them alone under any and all circumstances. He scratched the back of his head with another huff. “This is still freakin’ insane! Dude, just…,” his eyes stopped on him only. “Call me if you need anything.”

“For sure,” he nodded, watching as Ryuji reluctantly headed downstairs too.

After a few moments, he sunk his hands into his pockets and turned back to Akechi. Nothing changed there, he still looked at him like he was questioning his sanity.

“Why are you doing this?”

He shrugged, not intending to go into the real reasons about how – after several months of self-deprecation – he simply didn’t want to have to lose sight of him entirely again. “You actually wanted friends, did you not?”

Akechi’s brows rose high up upon hearing that, an expression settling on his face that Akira couldn’t quite read. Perhaps defiance… denial – in a less extreme form than what he’d seen on the ship.

“Well, this is your second take on that,” he added when he didn’t seem to say anything. “Even if we might not be your favorite people. But we’re at least offering.”

Akechi let out a frustrated sigh, and Akira figured that Akechi most likely didn’t know how to handle this type of situation in the slightest. “What makes you think I _want_ the offer?”

_Oh, there it is._

Another shrug. “You’re free to decline.”

There was silence as Akechi pressed his lips together into a thin line.

He pushed away the urge to smirk, and changed the subject. “You’re free to go now, but I’ll go with you.”

“Wh –”

“I want to know where you’re hiding out at,” he explained. “In case you disappear again.”

Well, that was definitely _a part_ of the reason.

Akechi frowned, but nodded anyway. “… Fine.”

They headed downstairs, and just as promised, Futaba kept Sojiro distracted while Akira maneuvered outside with his secret hostage by his side. He didn’t tell Sojiro he’d leave, but he figured it was fine – he’d been a great help at the café lately.

“This is so unnecessary,” Akechi mumbled under his breath once they started walking towards the station.

“Be nice with your friends,” he warned offhandedly, not even quite registering how easy it was to fall back into teasing him like it was the most natural thing; still, Akechi didn’t say anything for the rest of the way.

Akira had never been to Akechi’s place, not even before all of this, so he had no clue how he actually lived before, but he could imagine. He could almost visualize a penthouse with a stylishly organized – just so incredibly organized – apartment that fit his aura. Still, standing in front of the building he currently resided in, this was still fancier than what he would’ve guessed from someone in hiding. It was a regular apartment building in Meguro, with white walls and four floors with a small green area around it, but clearly from the more modern and refined side. Even so, Akechi seemed embarrassed as he walked ahead in front of him; or perhaps that had a different reason behind it.

Once they got to his apartment on the third floor, he squinted at the name displayed on the door, trying to fight a smirk. “Goto Atsushi… really?”

“Shut up,” Akechi hissed as he opened the door, and Akira’s smile broke through as he stopped in front of it. There was some sort of endearment behind it that he immediately discarded.

“I need your phone number, too,” he announced as he reached for the phone in his pocket.

Akechi raised a brow but complied anyway. As soon as Akira hit save, he pushed dial and watched in delight as Akechi stared at his buzzing phone before giving him a very specific _Look_.

“Really?”

“Just to make sure it’s real,” Akira deadpanned. Still, he was satisfied with the confirmation that it _was_ real.

Akechi sighed. “Anything else?”

“Just one thing, really,” he shifted his weight on his legs, trying to make eye contact just to make sure his words got through to him. It was still insane, the whole situation, the fact that he was even _standing_ in front of him, and Akira simply didn’t want to risk anything. “Don’t disappear again.”

Akechi blinked a few times before casting his eyes away. “I won’t.”

_Well, that’s something._

“Great,” he nodded before sending another teasing smile in his direction. “Then see you later… Atsushi-kun.”

He caught a glimpse of Akechi rolling his eyes as he turned on his heels, that fact somehow only humoring him more.

*

Being back in his makeshift – and yet coziest – room in the attic of Leblanc that night with Morgana and without Akechi started to feel like the whole thing was just some sort of fever dream that never actually happened. It felt normal and familiar, except for the dark gloom that kept following him the past few months; although that being a little less heavy and a little less dark was a welcome addition. Akira wondered if it may just eventually disappear entirely, too.

“How are you holding up?” Morgana inquired from next to him, his face suddenly in his vision.

Akira was laying on his back with his hands folded under his head, just staring at the ceiling and thinking. He shrugged briefly. “Still can’t entirely believe it. But ‘m fine.”

Morgana only hummed in response, but he didn’t take his eyes off him; oh, Akira knew exactly what he was trying to do staring into his soul like this. But maybe it was time to just be honest. He sighed, giving in to his curiosity.

“Why did you agree with me about Akechi?”

“Oh, did it surprise you?” Morgana tilted his head a little. “Well, as I told you before I don’t think he was a horrible person… deep down.”

After another moment, he continued a little more quietly. “Besides, I know you. I know you’ve been upset with yourself over what happened,” as Morgana spoke, Akira bit the inside of his cheek. He knew that Morgana could sense it in a way even if he didn’t necessarily say anything about the subject… the effects that day had on him were not exactly something easy to miss. Especially after they moved, and Akira had more time to think, which thus meant more time for self-blaming aswell.

“I’m hoping this might ease all that.”

Akira nodded with a brief smile, not really finding it in himself to verbally confirm it. Still, he at least wanted to show appreciation. He was immensely thankful for every single one of his friends. He could only hope that he could show them that he made the right decision. He _hoped_ this was the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going back to uni next week, and seeing as I'm a last year and I will be /loaded/ with assignments and a senior thesis, updates just might become a liiittle less frequent, however I will try updating as often as possible nontheless. Thank you for everyone reading, for now I hope I was able to give something to you by this chapter, which is.. the longest yet. Ho boy ;u;  
> Thank you for the comments and kudos, you guys are the best ;;;  
> See you next time!


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